No Accepted Substitute
by Madam Mimm
Summary: Sequel to "A Girl With Daddy Issues". Gabriel/Sam established, Dean/Cas hints. Something is killing off everything that called itself a "God", Gabriel's parenting is called into question and Cas isn't dealing too well with his new humanity.
1. Chapter 1

Tony Welker had never been a particularly lucky guy when it came to girls and the wooing thereof, which was why he was kind of surprised to find that this one had stuck around for the whole evening. They'd actually made it through a movie and a drive-thru meal together, which was something of a new record for him. Hardly the height of romance, and his mother's car hadn't impressed her like he'd hoped, but he was sixteen and on a budget so choices were limited. They pulled up, on her direction, not far from an old auto salvage yard Tony had probably driven (or been driven) past every other week, but he couldn't say he'd ever noticed it before.

"Why d'you want to stop here? Looks like a dump…"

"I'm staying here." The girl smiled at him, her dark hair shining in the light cast from the overhead bulb. "I know the owner."

"Oh, cool." Tony hastily backtracked. "It's nice. Cosy."

The girl raised an eyebrow and laughed (thank god she thought he was funny), before glancing awkwardly out of the window.

"So… I guess this is the end of the date…"

"Yeah… Can I…" Tony steeled himself, casually unbuckling his seatbelt to allow for maximum manoeuvrability. "Would it be cool if I gave you a kiss goodnight?"

"Ok." The girl gave a nervous laugh, and started to lean toward him_._

"_Oh shit yeah"_ thought Tony, as he rested his hand on her shoulder and leant in for the payoff.

All of a sudden, he found himself leaning into the space where a person should be but very definitely wasn't.

"Ahem."

Tony opened his eyes and found himself staring into an empty car seat. He looked up and saw the girl, looking utterly mortified, stood in the grip of a quietly furious man. Tony was probably about as tall as him, but damn if this guy wasn't oddly terrifying. It wasn't his raised eyebrow, his surmising sneer or his defiant body language that filled Tony with confused, awestruck terror; it was something far deeper and far more… the best word he could think of was "spiritual", but it wasn't quite right.

"Thank you for dropping her off." The man said, his eyes flashing as he levelled Tony with a forceful glare. "Now go home."

Tony gave a frightened nod, pulled the passenger door shut and drove off, making a mental note never to go near that salvage yard again.

Meanwhile, inside Singer Salvage and Auto-yard, a human and an ex-angel were watching through the window.

"I take it the human mating ritual isn't always ended by the paranoid father figure demanding the female return home?"

"No." Dean smirked at Castiel, before returning his attention to the argument that was taking place outside. "And it doesn't usually end with what looks like the female threatening to beat the father figure to death with a mailbox…"

From his place at the kitchen table, Sam managed to prize his face free of where it had been buried in his hands.

"You know, he probably wouldn't be paranoid if you hadn't kept calling it a "human mating ritual". You know how protective he gets…"

"Yeah." Dean glanced briefly over his shoulder, "And you know how hilarious it is. What's your point?"

Sam was about to tell Dean that he could take his point and stick it somewhere painful, when the front door swung open and slammed shut. Hella stormed into the room, glaring cold fury at Sam.

"You promised."

"I didn't tell him."

"You promised you'd keep this a secret! I can't believe you'd… betray me!"

"I didn't tell him!" Sam raised his hands defensively, caught between Hella's anger and Dean's contempt at his overwhelming need to grow a pair. "He read my mind!"

"And…" Gabriel was very suddenly stood behind Sam, and Sam was really wishing he'd just get used to that already. "You really don't have to slam doors like that, especially when we're guests in…"

"I do have to slam doors, otherwise you'd never listen to me!" Hella did not miss a beat in resuming her argument with her father, turning from Sam to Gabriel with a swift recalculation of the exact type of seething adolescent hatred she had to express. Yes, Sam knew that Hella was technically several centuries old, but she was still adolescent and therefore filled with all the angst and persecution complexes that the age group demanded.

"Like that makes her different to any of you guys." Gabriel muttered, picking up on Sam's thoughts. Sam shot the archangel an unimpressed glare. They had established that mind reading, among other angel powers, wasn't something that could be switched off, but that didn't stop it from being irritating. Especially when it got Sam in his current position.

"I can't believe you would do that to me." Hella crossed her arms and scowled at her father. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? I can never, ever see him again now, you do realise that?"

"Good." Gabriel crossed his arms right back, before catching up with the other half of her statement. "Wait, you were planning on seeing him again?"

Hella fell silent. Gabriel most emphatically didn't.

"For… Hel, you risked enough already! I can't believe you would be so stupid as to…"

"Not everyone's a demon, Dad! Not everyone's a witch trying to hunt me down, not everyone's an ex-angel with a vendetta…"

"No, you're right, not everyone is out to kill you, Hel, but there are enough things out there that are and I don't…"

"If I could…"

"Keep out of this, Cas, before I smite your ass for letting her out in the first place…"

"'Letting me out'?" Hella repeated, indignant, ignoring her Uncle Castiel who shrunk quietly back in his seat. "What am I, some common animal? I'm you daughter, I'm not a… a canary or something."

"And don't I know it! At least then you'd stay where you were at and like it…"

"ENOUGH." Bobby, who had been working in the basement and apparently wasn't any more, used his newly cleaned and loaded shotgun to punctuate his statement. Everyone stared at him, their eyes training down from the slow trickle of disturbed dust and plaster. Bobby dropped the shotgun on his desk, along with a large book he had been carrying.

"Buncha idjits take over my damn house and don't even have the decency to keep it damn quiet while I'm working… And feathers, fix the damn ceiling, would you?"

"Why should I?" Gabriel had long since given up on protesting what he claimed were racial slurs against those of a holy nature, but still bristled with indignance. "It was your shotgun…"

"And it was your daughter I gave sanctuary to, your ass I helped resurrect, and generally your damn fault I haven't had a moment's peace in the last three months." Gabriel was a fool to think he could out-bristle Bobby. The old hunter glared at him. "Fix. The damn. Ceiling."

Gabriel could have argued, but knew it was a bad idea. He clicked his fingers, and the ceiling was once again shotgun free.

"Good." Bobby nodded, sitting down behind his desk. "Hella, go to bed."

"What?" Hella squeaked, half angry and half imploring. "Bobby, he…"

"I don't care who did what to whoever else or what they were saying while they did it. You were supposed to be grounded because of your unsupervised magic lessons, you crept out, and you made that schmuck dad of yours so worried that I could barely focus on my work. Not to mention you'll have a whole list of chores tomorrow, so you'll want your beauty sleep."

"But…"

"Go."

Hella, knowing better than to argue with the man she had essentially adopted as her grandfather, trudged sulkily upstairs. Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean and Cas, who had been watching the scene unfold with smug amusement.

"Don't know what you two idjits are grinning at; last I looked the travel kits were still in the basement and still unpacked. Whose job was that again?"

Dean's smile dropped, and he and Cas hurried meekly to the basement. Bobby turned his attention to Sam.

"Research?"

"I was trying! Then…" Sam gestured at Gabriel and the general space they were in. "Then that happened."

"Yeah, well try harder." He tapped the book he had set down on the desk with one grubby forefinger. "This has pretty much everything you need, and before you ask, it was right where I told you to look before you thought you could find better on the internet." Bobby shook his head and picked up another book from his desk, leaning back in his chair.

"Go for a walk and clear your head, you're stressing yourself out, y'idjit."

Wordlessly, Gabriel took Sam's hand and led him outside. As the sun set over the autoyard, Sam got the distinct impression they'd worn out their welcome at Bobby's.

"I think I'm black-listed." Gabriel sighed, curling himself into Sam's side with an ease that usually came from years of practice, not mere months. Sam rested his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, his lips resting thoughtfully against the arch-angel's brow as he took in the evening air.

Twelve weeks. It had been twelve weeks since Gabriel had dragged Castiel down from his deified insanity, and twelve weeks since they began this bizarre parody of domestication. Hella and Castiel had been trained sufficiently (if not comprehensively) in the ways of hunting, pop culture and human behaviour, and now they were planning to head out and face whatever nasties were dying to rip 'em various new holes. Some had already tried, hence Gabriel's earlier paternal fury.

"She had a point." Sam said, as he and Gabriel wandered the edge of the salvage yard together. "She knows how to spot just about any monster you can name; even without using her powers… she can take care of herself."

Gabriel gave Sam a disgruntled glare.

"But she's... he was a punk, Sam, a nasty teenage punk."

"You don't know that."

"Uh, yeah." Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Mind reader? Plus, all those millennia of being a bringer of justice? I think I can tell a douchebag by now, thanks."

Sam hugged Gabriel a little tighter.

"You're scared."

"I'm a holy soldier of the old guard, I don't get scared."

"You're scared of losing her." Sam nudged Gabriel against his hip. "You just got her back, and now you're worried you're going to lose her again. Am I right?"

Gabriel said nothing, but ducked out from under Sam's arm. Sam sighed, wondering if he was ever going to have a straightforward day where he didn't end up pissing off some mystical creature or other.

"She still dreams about it." Gabriel said, turning his back on Sam. "Gets flashbacks."

"About what?" Sam said, though he had a good idea.

"Crowley. Torture. The whole capture and punishment thing. Between her finally getting to cope and Castiel…"

Gabriel looked up, glancing quickly over at Sam.

"What's wrong with Cas? Is he…"

"Forget it." Gabriel cleared his throat, slipping back into Sam's arms. "I shouldn't… it's nothing. I'm just getting anxious, being stuck here all this time. Need to get out on the road again, hit those wide open skies. Stretch the wings."

Sam didn't buy it for a second, but he was too tired to pursue it. Instead, he looked down into Gabriel's eyes and kissed him.

Twelve weeks since they first fell into this weird relationship situation. He didn't know what it was; it was more than friends with benefits, but they weren't exactly dating either. They were just… them. And, in standard hunter protocol, no one questioned it. Bobby, Dean and Cas just let them get on with it. Hella seemed accepting enough of the situation, although Sam felt more a friend than any kind of parental figure. He supposed that would come with time. Gabriel nudged him before leading him back into the house.

"You're getting introspective. Time for sleep."

Sam was about inclined to agree.

(-*-)

The world was fading away from her. That was interesting. The whole thing was new. She didn't like it. She didn't like being back in Helheim, either, but that's where she was. And she really didn't like that the walls were covered in blood.

It made her feel sick. The smell was everywhere, heavy and cloying, and plucking at her with invisible tendrils. She couldn't breathe.

The walls so wide, the hall so gaping, but she was still stuck, still chained, still suffocating. The smell was bricking her in, closing her in, the smell of death and pain and blood…

There he was. A shadow, slim, and distant, but there he was. And the sight of the shadow was all she needed to shatter the glass walls that imprisoned her. Gulping air in a way that demigods didn't need to, Hella ran and stumbled, desperate to find the shadow, catch the shadow…

Stop.

Stop.

Stop…

"Hella!"

She jerked awake, blinking as reality reconstructed itself around her. She saw Sam leaning worriedly around her door.

"We've got to go… are you ok? You're not usually a deep sleeper…"

"No, I'm… I'm ok. Rested and ready to go." She smiled, awkwardly, before teleporting herself into the bathroom.

Sam shrugged, as he heard the bathroom door slam and Dean swear loudly as he cursed Hella the Norwegian bathroom ninja.

Bobby stood in front of the car, watching as Dean and Sam loaded up the trunk.

"And don't hurry back."

"Aw, Bobby, I thought we'd really made progress." Gabriel pouted, earning himself a punch on the arm.

"We're not even on the road yet; can we hold off arguing for a while?" Sam sighed, pressing a quick kiss to Gabriel's cheek as the travel-sized archangel picked up three of the heavier suitcases and flew ahead to secure them motel rooms, quickly followed by Hella. Bobby watched Castiel climb quietly into the back seat of the impala, before patting Sam's arm gently.

"Keep an eye on Dean and Cas."

"Dean can look out for himself…"

"You know what I mean. Gabriel said, if Dean doesn't treat Cas with kid gloves, he's liable to go off the deep end again… just… watch out for them."

"Yeah." Sam nodded, feeling a little abashed that Bobby had seen the need to tell him. "I will."

"Alright. And don't get yourselves killed."

"We won't." Sam pulled Bobby into a quick hug before slipping into the passenger seat. "We'll tell you how it goes."

"Enjoy your peace and quiet." Dean grinned, as he shunted the car into gear and hit the road to their first hunt in three months. Sam just hoped the world was ready for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Hella deposited the bags she had brought with her, created herself a pair of headphones out of thin air and started listening to music. Gabriel scowled at her.

"And you can leave the attitude where you dumped your bags… in the middle of the floor!" Gabriel called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom. He sighed. He was an archangel of the lord. He was cool. Hell, he practically invented cool. And he was not about to lose it because his angsty adolescent daughter was throwing a hissy fit.

So he told himself as he stomped over to the bathroom and hammered on the door.

"Hella? Hel, come out, I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you."

Gabriel sighed again, just for something to do. He tried a slightly less aggressive tone.

"Hella, if you're mad at me, I need you to talk to me about it."

Silence.

"Is this about me and Sam?"

"No, this is about you being totally embarrassing…" The door opened a crack and Hella stuck her head through, before screaming, "While I'm trying to have a shower!" Then, the door was closed and locked, and the sounds of running water covered up Hella's angry stomping.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, collapsed onto the bed and started counting to ten. He really wasn't sure he could cope with another couple of centuries of her adolescence. He flipped out his phone (or, rather, the phone Sam had bought him to discourage random psychic communication) and sent the younger Winchester a text.

"Get here quick, she'll talk to you. Hope this isn't something inappropriate… does it count as oedipal if it's your dad's bo…"

The cursor stared at him, asking exactly what word he was about to write. Humans did make love so tricky for themselves, he thought, as he changed tack.

"your dad's boink-buddy?"

Gabriel smirked as he sent the text, knowing Sam would blush adorably and dwell on making some kind of response until they got here. He let himself collapse on the bed, and closed his eyes. God, being a parent was exhausting. He thought he'd done the tiring bit already; he'd gotten four of them walking, talking and toilet-trained, and even taught two of them how to transform into animals, which was pretty damn impressive, he'd thought. Maybe he hadn't left on the greatest terms, but one of them had cared enough to bring him back from the dead, so he must have done something right.

People wonder why the pagan gods are so messed up, but really? If you aged at a rate of one human year for anywhere between fifty and a hundred orbits around the sun, that meant you could be in adolescence for most of your life, and really, that would mess with anyone. Gabriel was just glad angels aged differently.

Shit, he thought, maybe that's something to do with Hella's temperament. Angel plus Frost Giant equals two very different aging patterns; that could explain a lot. He'd not seen Fenrir or Jörmungandr go through it, as they'd already been cast out. And Hella had already displayed something of a similarity to her mother... that, if he was honest, was what worried him the most.

(-*-)

Sam stared at his phone for a moment, before losing it and putting it back in his pocket, Dean glanced away from the road to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Text from your boyfriend?"

"Shut up."

"I can tell it's from your boyfriend. You know how I can tell?"

"Shut up."

"I can tell, because you blush like a fat schoolgirl who just had her art teacher tell her he always had a thing for smart girls."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam grudgingly shared his brother's smirk. He didn't really mind Dean's teasing; it was kind of his way of letting Sam know he approved of the relationship, or at the very least accepted it. It was good, to finally have something they could talk about that wasn't who'd broken the world this time around, or who'd just sentenced themselves to death. This was possibly the closest to normal their lives could ever be, Sam thought, even if it involved teaching a recently humanised angel how to survive and one of them being romantically involved with an archangel turned trickster. Well, perhaps "romantically involved" was a stretch, Sam amended, risking one more glance at the text from Gabriel, and involuntarily blushing again at the sight of the word "boink-buddy".

From his sprawled position across the back seat, Castiel groaned and whimpered in his sleep. Dean glanced in the rear view, and reached around the back of his seat to hit the x-angel's knee.

"Cas? Cas! It's just a dream, buddy. Wake up."

Castiel blinked awake, cast worried glances around the car, and then caught Dean's eye in the rear view.

"I was dreaming again." He said, still half asleep. Dean nodded.

"Yeah. They can't hurt you, Cas, they're not real."

"Yes." Castiel nodded, already drifting back to sleep. "Not real… thank you." And with that, he was gone again. Sam noted the shadow of worry crossing Dean's face, and supposed he had a right.

"He's not been sleeping well since… since he got back." Dean said, focusing a little too intently on the road. Sam wanted to ask how Dean knew that, but he supposed it was obvious. Castiel had followed Dean pretty much everywhere since he had "got back", as then now euphemistically referred to his being torn from both his grace and the haze of souls he had forced into himself. Even Sam, who'd probably spent the least time with him, could tell that the ex-angel had yet to adjust to the idea of four to six hours sleep a night. He looked haggard, his skin even paler than usual, with large dark bags under his eyes and a slightly dead, exhausted slump to his shoulders.

True to form, Sam was a little more worried about the effect Castiel's sleeplessness was having on his brother. Yeah, he felt bad about it, but Dean wasn't going to take care of himself. Not since he'd apparently vowed to spend his waking moments with Castiel as first priority.

"Dude, if you want to get some sleep yourself…"

"No way; we're almost there." Dean smiled, but it was a weak one. "I'll sleep on a bed or not at all."

"If you're sure." Sam shrugged, knowing Dean wouldn't be convinced otherwise.

(-*-)

Gabriel was loath to admit he fell asleep, because falling asleep in the middle of the day was something humans did, and old ones at that, but the next he knew, he was waking up with a weight tucked under his arm, lying next to him on the bed. He looked down to see Hella curled into him, her arms wrapped around his torso.

"Hey there, kiddo." He pushed himself up, slightly, pulling her into a more reciprocal hug. She looked devastatingly sad, and the red puffiness under her eyes said that she might have been crying. Alarm bells rang instantly in Gabriel's head.

"Hey! What's up? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She sniffed into his shoulder. "I… I might have broken the bathroom mirror, and then I was so shook up I couldn't fix it."

"You broke it?" Gabriel found himself chuckling with relief. "Oh dear, we're going to have to do something about this." He stood, gripping her hand and walked her over to the bathroom, where shard of glass still littered the floor. He snapped his fingers, and the mirror reformed as good as new (motel rust and all). Then, he walked her over to the table, sat her down, and conjured a frankly huge ice cream sundae and two spoons.

"Get eating. I'm not sharing this with Dean."

Hella laughed as she picked up one spoon and started in on the gigantic pile of ice cream and syrup. Gabriel watched her as they ate quietly for a while, gauging her relaxation as the ice cream did it's work. Eventually, he deemed it safe to speak.

"So how did the mirror get broken?"

"I kind of… punched it." She looked down sheepishly, but didn't stop eating.

"You punched it?"

"And I threw some stuff at it too."

"Well… that explains why you were too worked up to fix it. Why'd you punch it?"

"Because." She shrugged, tailing off into a spoonful of sundae. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her, but said no more. After a while, she looked at him, with the kind of hopeful pleading that he instantaneously loved and dreaded.

"Are my legs ugly?"

Gabriel nearly choked on his sundae.

"Say again?"

"I mean, look at them." She raised her leg so that her bare, blackened foot was visible to him. "That's not the right colour for skin to be. Maybe if I was like that all over… all grey-black and frostbitten…"

"You're not ugly." Gabriel shook his head, reaching across the table to grab her hand. "You're one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen on this Earth. Or in any of the worlds hereafter."

She smiled for a moment, before snatching her hand way and scooping more ice cream into her mouth.

"Yeah, well, you have to say that. You're my dad; you don't count."

"I don't count? Oh, lovely. That's a wonderful thing to hear."

She stuck her tongue out at him, coated honey yellow by the ice cream. He laughed, and smiled at her, coaxing out a grudging response.

"Well, I'd say you're beautiful. And you're even prettier when you smile."

It was then that Dean and Castiel chose to walk into the room, and Gabriel shot a conspiratorial wink at Hella, the sundae quietly disappearing.

"Finally!" Gabriel leant back in his chair, glaring at them. "What did you do, pull over to have some fun off road?"

"Bite me, feathers." Dean advised, holding his hand out. "Where's our room?"

"Right across the hall." Gabriel threw Dean the motel room key, and glanced at Hella. "You sure you're ok to couch-surf?"

"Mhm." She smiled, wagging her fingers at him. "I'll be fine. It might not stay a couch for the whole night, but I'll be fine."

"That's my girl." Gabriel grinned, standing and ruffling her hair, to an annoyed yelp from her. "Where's Samsquatch?"

"He insisted on carrying all the bags by himself. Said we should go on ahead." Dean shrugged. "You know what they say about gift horses."

"Yeah, and you know how he's going to bitch if I don't go down and help him." Gabriel sighed, dramatically, before disappearing with the familiar rustle of feathers, presumably to the car park. Dean scowled a little, before rattling the motel room keys and gesturing to Hella's bag. "Let's get you over to the right room then."

The other motel room had two single beds and a couch, which Hella promptly turned into a small four poster bed with blue and black curtains. Dean eyed his lumpy motel mattress with contempt.

"Don't suppose you could…"

Hella smiled, and happily improved the motel's beds by at least two stars. Dean grinned at her.

"You're way more useful than your dad."

Castiel, who was already lying on his bed, gave her a weary smile.

"I agree, you use your powers to a far greater good than your father."

Hella smiled back, before looking cautiously at Dean. Dean, who had been raiding the mini-bar, and was taken by surprise when he noticed this sudden scrutiny, looked right back.

"Yeah?"

"You're a guy."

"Uh, yeah." Dean nodded, opening the bottle of water he kind of wished was a beer. "Does it show?"

"Are my legs ugly?"

Dean choked on his water, and Hella scowled. She was starting to get a little sick of guys choking on things when she asked them that.

"Uh… You mean with the…"

"With the fact that I look rotten from the waist down." Hella snapped, her jaw set in a scowl. "Whatever, forget it."

"No, wait, I just wasn't… I mean you surprised…"

"Hella." Castiel turned his head, and fixed her with one sleepy eye. "There is a common misconception, especially amongst humans or those who have spent a lot of time around them, that 'different' is the same as 'ugly' or 'unattractive'. What they mean, when they use those words, is 'unexpected', because the human mind doesn't like to be surprised. Beauty, however, true beauty, is always surprising, and it takes a mature, understanding, intelligent mind to understand that. If a person thinks another 'ugly' when what they mean is 'different', they are not aiming to offend. They simply cannot comprehend what is meant by 'beauty'."

Hella stared at him for a moment, considering this, before hugging him and turning a brilliant, bright smile on Dean.

"I can go get dinner, if you like? Chinese?"

"Sounds awesome." Dean nodded, as she disappeared from the room. Dean collapsed onto his bed, happy to just relax for a while. He turned onto his side to look at Castiel. "Is that true?"

"What?"

"What you just said to Hella?"

"Why should I lie to her?" His lips twitched into a smile as he turned weary eyes on Dean. "I wish everyone to be happy. Because if they are happy, they'll be quiet and let me sleep."

Dean laughed a little, and nodded.

"Point taken." He lay back, and let himself rest.


	3. Chapter 3

Black, ectoplasmic goo covered the floor around them. The majorly pissed off spirit of one Virginia Grey stood not ten feet in front of the huddled hunters, screeching and wailing at such volume that even Gabriel was having to cover his ears.

"Can't you do something?" Dean glared at the archangel. "Use your angel-fu or whatever?"

"If I could, don't you think I would have by now?" Gabriel yelled back watching the ghost screech at the circle of salt they'd managed to trap her in. It was unfortunate that the spirit had been buried in the concrete foundations of the art studio they were now in, as it made salting and burning impossible, and it also meant that the spirit had an entire gallery to play with as she carried on destroying artworks, structural integrity and people's faces.

Virginia was tall, and had the standard blood-soaked rat's tails of blonde hair, dirty hands, bleeding sores and so on, but otherwise, she was built like a combine harvester. She had apparently been the illegitimate child of some poor bastard who died in world war two. She had been locked in a basement all her life, abused emotionally and physically, and then when she finally got free, she'd been (understandably, Sam thought) kind of pissed. At the time of her death, there had been seventeen murders attributed to her. She had injected herself with an air-filled syringe, rather than be taken to an asylum for the clinically insane.

She turned her bloodied, furious eyes on the three hunters, and screamed at them.

"I need to get close enough to her to touch her." Gabriel said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again. "And while I'm sure you two brave little soldiers would march right on in there, I'd prefer not having to reattach my limbs…"

"Great." Dean muttered, adjusting his grip on the shotgun he was clutching to his chest.

"If you could stop bitching…"

"Why don't you both quit it?" Sam snapped. He had been watching Virginia, and had noticed something of a pattern in her movements. She was pissed at them, sure, but if they broke the circle, they wouldn't be her first priority. She was trying to get to the painting that hung on the far wall. Sam looked at both of them.

"Gabriel, if you wait by that big painting over there, she'll run straight into you. Dean, you and me need to run at her, and act like we're breaking the circle on accident."

"What are you, crazy?" Dean was, at least, distracted from his rage at Gabriel.

"Sam…" Gabriel seemed to share Dean's sentiment. "She'll kill you. Like, actually kill you dead."

Sam sighed as they both stared at him like his hair was on fire. At least they could find something to agree on, even if it was 'Sam has no self preservation instincts'.

"Trust me." Sam rested his hand on Gabriel's shoulder and stared at him. "Go."

Gabriel, with a brief glance at Dean, nodded and disappeared. Sam grinned nervously at Dean.

"Let's go."

Dean nodded, and, with a sense of impending doom, the Winchesters stood and ran at the ghost. She screamed at them. Sam stepped on the salt circle, breaking the otherwise perfect white line.

The ghost threw him thirty feet across the room and sent him smashing into the exposed brick wall of the gallery. Sam stayed conscious just long enough to see Gabriel appear in front of the vicious spirit and slam a hand onto her forehead.

Then he totally didn't pass out. He just closed his eyes for a bit.

(-*-)

Hella downed the dregs of her coffee and grimaced at the bitter tang. She stared at the webpage she had been reading for the past hour, and tried not to think about the nightmare she'd woken from. Her uncle Castiel was still sprawled on the motel bed, drifting between sleep and waking.

She shook away the last remnants of a sleepy fog and tried to focus on the research she was supposed to be doing for their next job. She sucked air in through her teeth, finding some way to break the silence. She checked her email for the seventeenth time in the last ten minutes. Finally, she searched the internet for time-occupying flash games.

Researching anything was kind of a formality anyway, since they had an archangel, a demi-god and a 'Castiel the fallen'.

Speaking of which, she turned around to face her uncle, who woke with a sharp intake of breath. He glanced around, before smiling apologetically.

"My vess… body… is still unused to changing from one state of consciousness to another. And dreams are… still very disturbing."

"Yeah. They take practice." She smiled as he stretched and wandered over to join her at the table, before glancing at the laptop.

"You aren't researching. As an uncle, I understand it is my duty to reprimand you."

"Aww." Hella sighed dramatically, knowing full well that Castiel couldn't reprimand a fly, especially in his new and unimproved form. He pulled his shoulders back and pointed at her.

"Research."

She laughed, and went back to staring at the same webpage she'd been looking at earlier. Castiel sighed and stared out of the window, his brow furrowed.

"They're on their way back… and none too pleased with each other."

"Could have told you that would happen." Hella rolled her eyes as she started compiling files of notes and articles. "My dad, his boyfriend, and his boyfriend's brother, who barely get on with each other as it is, all going out to kill things together. Brilliant idea."

"You're only saying that because you wanted to go with them." Castiel tutted. "Once I become accustomed to a sleeping pattern, our tasks of staying here to gather research will be both more fruitful and more enjoyable than their 'field work'." Hella smiled at him over the top of the laptop screen, taking in his weary eyes and slightly more ruffled than usual appearance.

"How are you coping? You know, with the whole… human thing?"

Castiel flinched a little, scratching the back of his neck. He turned mournful eyes on her and forced an awkward smile.

"It's difficult."

Wordlessly, Hella stood and took her mug back over to the coffee-maker, stopping on the way to give her uncle a hug. Although they had only known each other a few months, the two were oddly close, what with the remnants of Castiel's grace rendering him psychic and Hella's profession that she would have given her grace to save him, if she could have. Not to mention the fact that, in amongst Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Bobby, Castiel was possibly the only unbiased and sympathetic ear she had.

As if waiting for their cue, the hunters returned, all looking rather annoyed with each other and shooting the stay-behinds only the most cursory of smiles.

"You are a goddamned idiot, Winchester."

"And you'd know all about that…"

"Look, it worked, didn't it?"

"Hi." Hella scowled, raising her eyebrows at them. "No, we're fine, nothing happened, thanks for asking."

"You have plaster in your hair. And… ectoplasm, I believe." Castiel said, by way of greeting.

"Cute. Real clever." Dean scowled at the assembled group, giving Gabriel a special glare as Hella started making coffee for everyone. "You know, as soon as you can stand for more than a few hours, we'll see how clever you are when you've got a ghost in your…"

The group were blasted apart by a sudden apparition, the motel room filled with light and noise, blinding and blurring everything.

When it cleared, as slowly as it started, the small group was left reeling in the presence of a newcomer.

She stood taller than Sam, her skin tanned in the way that spoke of ice slopes and skiing holidays. She was lean and muscular, with long, albino white and a dignified posture that made her height all the more imposing. Her irises were a thin band of red, around a black pupil that took up most of her eye. She wore a combination of fur and leather which gave her the look of a regal businesswoman from a late eighties movie. An utterly terrifying regal businesswoman.

"Crap." Muttered Gabriel, as he dragged himself to his feet. "It's the ball and chain."

"Loki." Her voice was deep, and her accent as thick as her bicep. "Where is my daughter?"

"Mor?" Hella stood, shaking a little, but gaining confidence quickly as the newcomer turned a dazzling smile on her.

"Hel!"

"Mor! Hva gjør du her? Jeg har savnet deg så mye!"

The newcomer had a laugh that echoed the deep rumbling of an avalanche, and picked Hella up easily, swinging her in a circle.

"Jeg har savnet deg også! Jeg trenger å snakke med dine unyttige far, men jeg kan ikke vente med å ta opp med deg…"

"Angie. Baby." Gabriel flashed the most insincere of smiles, standing between Sam and the newcomer. "Not that this isn't the most pleasant surprise I've had since a dog bit me in the ass…" The newcomer gave him an equally sarcastic smile as she set Hella down on the floor. "But what are you doing here?"

"Well. Firstly, I came to see my daughter, who you have apparently spirited away to the most dangerous and treacherous of worldly professions…" She turned her sarcastic smile on the rest of the group, summing up exactly how she felt about hunters in the swift arching of one eyebrow, "and second, although I'm sure you don't deserve it, I came to warn you."

"Warn me?" Gabriel glared at her, but was interrupted when Dean cleared his throat.

"Hey, not that this I'm not thrilled by the idea of standing here having no damn clue what you're talking about, but someone want to tell us what's going on?"

"Yes, Gabriel." The woman smirked at Gabriel, who scowled up at her. "That is the name I hear you go by, these days."

"Gabriel?" Sam was starting to feel a little nervous, with the way they were glaring at each other and the way this woman was calling Hella her daughter. "You want to introduce everyone?"

"Alright." The archangel sighed, shooting awkward, apologetic looks at Sam. "Angie, this is Castiel, Dean, and Sam. Sam, Dean, Cas, this is… this is Angie."

"Angrboda." She smiled a broad but thin-lipped smile, extending her hand to Sam. Her eyes shone with a worrying power as the word sank into everyone's consciousness. "I suppose you could call me Gabriel's ex."

"Oh." Dean grinned, smugness oozing out of every pore. "Well then, Gabriel's ex, meet Gabriel's current. I guess Cas and I will make ourselves scarce; this is clearly family business. Cas." Dean jerked his head towards the door, and the ex-angel followed obediently, pausing only to pat Sam reassuringly on the shoulder.

"Frost giants…" he muttered, in a way which he must have thought was subtle, "are not nearly as brutish or thuggish as they are reputed… in reality, it's a much more refined, intelligent violence."

"Thanks." Sam replied, very worried about the fact that Angrboda was still gripping his hand. Once Dean and Castiel had left, she laughed again, fixing Sam with a cool eye.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you. Our partnership was… a marriage of inconvenience."

"Yeah, no love lost." Gabriel sighed, looking very much like he wanted to bash someone's head against a wall, possibly even his own.

"Way to not traumatise the kid." Hella wandered away from her mother's side and closed Sam's laptop.

"Just because we hate each other, doesn't mean we don't love you, sweetie." Angrboda smiled at her. Gabriel leant against the table, his arms crossed.

"What do you want?"

"There's… something is wrong." She opened her mouth to continue, but seemed suddenly struck by a thought.

"Hella, darling, why don't you and this fine young man go fetch us some food, please?"

"I can tell when I'm not wanted." Hella sighed, grabbing Sam's arm and leading him from the room.

"But…"

"Just go, Sam." Gabriel put a tired hand to his forehead. "We'll talk later."

Of course, Gabriel knew exactly how many questions Sam had about the whole situation (he was getting really sick of his overactive mind-reading lately), and he knew Sam was about to have a big, relationship-themed freakout. He knew he was somehow going to be the bad guy, and he knew he was going to be in big trouble. He could deal with that later. Right now, Angrboda looked like she had some very important news and, given that he was probably sleeping on the couch for at least the next week, he was going to be very pissed if no one was dead.


	4. Chapter 4

When they were finally allowed back into the motel room, Angrboda had gone. Gabriel was left with a worried expression and a pile of papers.

"Gabriel?"

He cast Sam an almost apologetic smile, forcing himself into something resembling his usual cockiness. Even Dean could see that Gabriel was shaken.

"Uh... So, Angie had a case for you boys. And, this is just me speaking, but personally I think you should take it." He gestured to the piles of paper that sat on the coffee table, clearly wondering exactly where to being. Sam picked up what looked like a collection of case files, which had either been stolen or duplicated from coroner's records. There were four, each accompanied by a picture. Two women, two men. All of them apparently dead, due to a single stab wound through the heart.

Sam paused at the picture of the second woman, recognising her instantly. Gabriel spoke to the group, still casting apologetic glances at Sam.

"Brian Costello, Andrew Campwick, Lucy Stark and… Kali Desai. Otherwise known as Apollo, Greek God of the sun, Arausio, Celtic God of water, Calliope, mother of the Greek muses, and… well… you remember Kali."

At this point, Sam was sent another awkward, apologetic look. Dean took the case studies, glancing through them.

"All killed? So, what, something's hunting your pagan pals and you want us to do you a favour?"

"No… See, you know me, nine times out of ten I wouldn't give a crap if these blockheads got themselves hunted. Except this isn't just random hunting. Each of them had assimilated themselves into society; they weren't doing rituals or taking sacrifices. They had human names, human jobs, and were just trying to get by."

"Yeah, but they're still monsters, right?" Dean said, before glancing at Hella. "No offence. Look, if some hunters decided to…"

"They all happened within the space of a week. And not just them. Celebrities, leaders of cults… grandiose nut-balls…" Gabriel sighed, and turned away from the group slightly. "It seems that anyone who ever called themselves a "God" is on the hit-list. That means me, Hel, Jör, Fen… and…" He glanced at Castiel, feeling the awkward tension in the room instantly go up a notch or two.

Dean stared from Cas to Gabriel, before nodding.

"Ok. So we go find who's ganking Gods, ask them nicely to stop, and then if that doesn't work, we shoot 'em." Dean forced a laugh. "Easy, right?"

"Yeah, like our lives are ever easy." Sam muttered, glancing at some of the more detailed reports. "None of these say anything about a wooden stake… This one mentions fragments of stone."

"Keen eye there, Samsquatch." Gabriel flashed another weak smile, before scratching the back of his neck. "I've got to be honest, I've got no idea what could kill a pagan God if it's not using a wooden stake, but something tells me it's not human."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," Castiel spoke, staring intently at the papers in front of him. "a human would have been stopped by now."

Castiel's words fell into a numb silence.

"I'm going to see Fen." Hella muttered, before disappearing.

(-*-)

Gabriel heaved a deep sigh as he collapsed face-forward onto the motel double bed, mustering up enough energy to change the mattress into something more comfortable. Sam, who was still getting undressed, glanced over at him.

"You ok?"

"Peachy."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, before perching on the end of the bed.

"I mean… I know you and Kali had a…"

"Kali and I were a short-lived fling. We both fully understood that it ended when it ended."

Sam nodded, sitting back slightly.

"And that whole thing with Hella's mom, that was what? A friendly talk between old friends?"

Gabriel managed to look at Sam just long enough to convey his scorn.

"You know me, Sam. I've had lovers since loving was invented, and only half of them have been conjured up by me. You have that many exes, you can't stay friends with all of them."

Sam stared at him for a moment, his mouth half open, before turning away with a resolved finality. Gabriel groaned and rolled over onto his back.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Sam…"

"No, it's nothing. Forget it."

"Yeah, right. I'm going to have that luxury." He pushed himself up into a more alert position, his weight on his elbows and his eyebrows raised at Sam. "Go on. Tell me I'm a horrible person."

"It's just interesting to know how you treat people once they're not having sex with you any more. That's all."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up another notch, and he gave a long, low whistle.

"You really can be a bitch when you want to, huh? Sam, I have no problems with intimacy, or the lack thereof, especially with Angie. Her, Kali… heck, I can give you a list of names if you like. But none of them mattered. Take it from the guy who trained the first Cupid; that wasn't love."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yeah, you damn ape, it means I love you." Gabriel said it in the same way most people would tell someone they left the fridge door open, so Sam didn't immediately pick up on it.

"Yeah, well… oh…"

"Yeah." Gabriel snickered. "Oh. So come to bed and quit getting your panties in a bunch over my ex-wife… Listen to me, I sound like a state senator."

Sam laughed, shaking his head despairingly as he clambered in next to Gabriel.

"Sorry."

"Don't sweat it."

"Thanks. And… you know, you too."

It was Gabriel's turn to despair, shooting Sam an amused grin.

"I'd forgotten how complicated humans make simple things like love… so what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I don't know…" Sam sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I guess we treat it like any other case. Go to the crime scenes, find as much information as we can on the victims, see if there's any common ground, aside from the obvious… try and find witnesses. Research."

"Great." Gabriel sighed, running a hand over his hair. "Well, at least you know what you're doing."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. Gabriel waved it aside.

"Just… Hella. She's all… image-conscious, teenage girl stuff. I don't know how to deal with her… Whatever, she'll grow out of it, right?"

"You are really asking the wrong guy." Sam laughed, between yawns. "I haven't been around teenage girls since high school. Well… except for the occasional case witness, but you get what I mean."

Gabriel chuckled appreciatively, before lying back on the bed, a troubled expression painting his features. Sam knew that look. Sam had learned to fear that look.

"You're not even going to try and sleep tonight, huh?"

"No, I can't… I can't be still." Gabriel stood, still fully clothed, scratching the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly at Sam. "You don't mind if I…"

"Just… don't wake me up when you get back?" Sam smiled at him, happy to let Gabriel do whatever he needed to do.

"Scout's honour. Not unless I'm super-horny."

Sam laughed to himself, settling down to sleep.

"Fair enough. See you later."

"Later."

"Love you."

Gabriel smiled, his angelic ability to sense emotions rendering the words redundant but not unwelcome.

"Love you too, Sam." And with that, he took flight, relishing the familiar sensation of atmosphere in his wings, stretching his wings as much as his vessel could permit. Where would he go? He should call in on Fenrir and his family, and see if Hella was safe. He could always check in on Jörmungandr, just to ask him how he was. He knew where he wanted to go. His wings took him there without even thinking. He could see the state, the county, the very street. He found himself, almost without thinking, surrounded by the snow-covered Alaskan wilds, staring up at a house that sat on blue and white stilts. The black roof gleamed in the streaky sunset, and the windows, all covered with ice white curtains, shone enough that he might have found them inviting, once.

Unlike the other houses that stood either side, it had no stairs to take visitors from ground level to the front door. It had a smooth, clean ramp, which led straight to the white pine porch and a plum purple front door, above which hung a varnished salt-dough ornament. Anyone who didn't know better would think it was supposed to be a snowflake.

Gabriel knew better.

After a few minutes of gazing silently up at the house, wrestling with his own desire, he left. He flew straight from Alaska to the coast of Massachusetts, and didn't look back.

He couldn't afford to look back. Not now. He landed quietly outside Jörmungandr's beach-side tourist trap, just as his son was closing up for the night. Joking, clapping his son on the back and talking about Angrboda and Hel, Gabriel acted as though he'd intended to be there from the get-go. Once more, he put the stilted house with the ramp to the very back of his mind. He couldn't look back now.

(-*-)

Another day, another fake badge, Sam thought, as he and Dean schmoozed their way into getting coroner's reports and looking at the bodies of the slain Gods. Lucy, or Calliope, had been attacked before she was stabbed, her Mediterranean complexion ruined by round, black bruises. Whatever was doing this wasn't afraid to pull punches.

"I don't get it." Dean shook his head, staring down at the beaten, bloodied corpse. "I mean, Apollo? "Brian", whatever he called himself? He was ripped, the injuries on him made sense."

"Made sense?" Sam repeated, halfway through checking the dental reports. Her teeth had been broken, most likely through brute force.

"Yeah. A guy that strong was going to fight back, so it makes sense someone would need to beat him to a pulp before they could get close enough to stab him. But… Does she look like she could put up a fight to you?"

Calliope was five foot nothing, nine stone and flat-chested. Sam could wrap his entire hand around her wrist and still probably hold a can of pepsi.

"No… But then I guess gods don't need physical strength on their side."

Dean thought about this for a moment, before nodding.

"So they found fragments of stone in the wound? What kind of stone?"

"Uh…" Sam grabbed the evidence bag, pocketing it. "It says here it's unknown. You think maybe Cas or Hella would be able to identify it?"

"Probably. If not, Bobby could always…"

"You sure we want to call Bobby on this one?" Sam's brow furrowed. "We only left his house… not even a week ago. He probably wants some peace and quiet, you know?"

"I guess…" Dean sucked air in through his teeth as he lifted Calliope's hair away from her neck. The bruises made it look like someone had had her in a choke hold. "Anything else worth looking at?"

"The apartment was trashed. She was found when her… yikes. When her piano student, a nine year old Nancy Mays came for her lesson."

"Alright." Dean nodded, sliding the slab back into the freezer. "You want to scope the crime scene or you want to interview little Nancy-Trauma-Case?"

"Don't you think we should both..?"

"And spend twice as long as we need to? No way, the sooner this gets solved, the better."

Sam stared at Dean for a moment, following him as they made to leave the morgue.

"Why so desperate to beat this one?"

"As much as it pains me to admit it, Sam, not all gods deserve to die."

"You're talking about Cas."

Dean gave him his best "Shut up, Sam" glare, and pushed through the main doors, into the parking lot. Sam kept on the subject, because he was nothing if not tactless.

"I get it. I'm worried about him too, but I'm not sure that rushing this job will get it done any…"

"I'm warning you, Sam."

"Look, just because you're trying to get it done, doesn't mean…"

"Alright." Dean slid into the impala, reaching over and slamming the lock down before Sam could open his door. Sam stared at him.

"What the hell?"

"You can go talk to Nancy Trauma Case. I'll go look through the apartment. Here." He wound the window down and threw Nancy's witness statement at Sam, knowing he could figure out where to go and how to get there. "Later."

Dean drove off to the sound of his brother impotently cursing, and probably found it way more amusing than he really should have.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Sam had managed to traipse back to the motel room, Dean had interviewed Nancy and bought everyone (except for him) Chinese. He shot a choice glare at his brother, and was about to sit down when Gabriel grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him bodily towards the door.

"Gabe, really, I need to sit down."

"No time. I want to go visit some friends, and you're coming with me."

"What?" Sam sighed, wishing he could at least have had time to change out of his suit, but knowing better than to protest. "How come? Can't you…"

"Nope." Gabriel shot a wink over his shoulder at everyone in the motel room. "Don't wait up."

Sam just had time to produce the stone fragment he had taken from Calliope's body and throw it to Dean before they were gone, with a familiar rustle of feathers. Castiel, from his position on the couch with Hella, heaved a sigh.

"I wish he wouldn't do that."

"What?" Dean blinked, dropping his cardboard carton on the table to pick up the evidence bag Sam had thrown at him.

"Fly off. It's… I find it disconcerting now, and that fact disconcerts me more."

"Yeah, well, now you know how I felt." Dean grumbled, exchanging an ironic smile with the ex-angel.

"What's in the bag?" Hella mumbled, around a mouthful of noodles.

"It's a shard of stone we found on Calliope's body. Can you check it out, see if you can find out where it came from?" Dean handed the bag over to Cas, and watched with wrong-footed horror as Castiel's usual staid ambivalence crumpled in front of his eyes.

"Hey… Cas, what's up?"

"It's nothing." The reply was gruff, compensating for the moment of brief emotional exposure with denial.

Cas was flying through his Dean Winchester course in coping strategies, thought Hella, as she watched Castiel stand awkwardly. He took the stone fragment with him as he headed towards the door. "I need some air."

Dean watched his new charge with worry, before glaring at Hella.

"Stay here."

"Or what?"

"Stay." Dean commanded, running after Castiel. The guy couldn't fly any more, but he could walk very quickly when he wanted to, and he was practically in the bar by the time Dean caught up with him.

"Leave me alone, Dean. I'm fine."

"No you're not, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Castiel insisted, although he had yet to get over grimacing when he lied. Dean laid a heavy hand on Castiel's shoulder, forcing him to stop. Cas glared at the ground. "It's the stone."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"When I was… before… I could have told you exactly where it had come from and how old it was, just by looking at it. And now, I…" Cas blinked rapidly, trying to regain control over the emotions he had never realised humans had to deal with. "It is… a trifling thing to be upset by. A stupid thing…"

Dean, who really did not want Cas to start crying in the middle of the motel lobby, patted his arm amicably.

"Hey. C'mon, no pressure. So you'll have to look it up like the rest of us. It doesn't mean you're stupid. Hooking up with a trickster? That's stupid." Dean grinned, really hoping his infectious smile would do its' job. Cas gave a grudging smile, and Dean felt slightly relieved.

"You want to get a drink?"

"Yes." Castiel mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. "I believe it would be appropriate."

"Come on, you dork, let's get some beer." Dean laughed, steering him into the bar.

(-*-)

Meanwhile, and several states north, Sam was not used to flying air angel and he didn't think he ever would be. Gabriel ignored his queasy boyfriend and stared out over the Vermont skyline.

"What a tool." He muttered to himself, as he grabbed Sam's hand and started pulling him up the drive towards a ski lodge. "OF course he'd settle down in a place like this."

"What are you talking about? Gabriel, wait… I'm really tired, can you just let me catch my breath?" Sam snatched his hand away, shooting a quick glare at the archangel. Gabriel seemed confused by Sam's need to… you know, be human, but he didn't say anything. He just sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for Sam.

"Are you done?"

Sam glared at him, but straightened up.

"Yes. So what's so damn important?"

"All these pagans getting snuffed out. I want to check on an old friend of mine."

"Couldn't you do that on your own?"

"Sam, for someone who's so damn smart, you're not all that quick off the draw, are you?" Gabriel grabbed his hand and slipped his free arm around Sam's waist, curling expertly into his side. "I want you to meet him too. He's… kind of important, and his meeting you would… don't make me say it."

Sam raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping over his lips as he started to understand what Gabriel was asking.

"I missed dinner for this. I think you're going to have to say it."

Gabriel glared at him with mock intensity. Sam smiled back goofily, watching Gabriel's resolve disappear.

"Fine. It would mean a lot to me." Gabriel sighed, staring up at Sam with his usual mask of sarcastic smugness, but Sam was starting to see past it, knowing exactly what Gabriel used it to hide. Worry. Doubt. Inadequacy. Sam hugged him tight and they started walking towards the ski-lodge. The door was then opened by a man who ruined whatever emotional moment the two had been having.

The man was taller than Sam, certainly more burly, with flaming red hair cascading down his back, and designer stubble peppering his heavy jaw.

"Loki!" He bellowed, crossing the distance between them easily and without many steps, before slapping Gabriel on the back. Sam watched Gabriel wince, partly due to the force of impact and partly due to the use of his old name. "Oh! Or… Gabriel, should I say? Eh?" The man threw back his head, clearly finding something very funny, although Sam had no idea what. That was when the flame-haired man turned his fierce blue eyes on him, and Sam resolved to stop thinking anything that might piss this guy off. Beside him, Gabriel snorted a quiet laugh.

"And who are you?"

"Go inside and make us some coffee, you blockhead. This is Sam, he's… he's my new guy. Sam, don't say anything stupid, but… I'd like you to meet Thor."

"Thor?" Sam blinked, following the laughing, red-haired man back into the ski-lodge. "I thought he was blonde."

"That would count as something stupid." Thor yelled back over his shoulder, although volume seemed to be a relative thing with him. "And it's Björn now. At least in public."

Gabriel smirked up at a bewildered Sam, patted his ass and then led him into the lodge.

"Björn, huh?" Gabriel said, as he gazed around the brilliantly lit, open space of the lodge. "Nice digs. How's Sif?"

"We talk." Thor shrugged, his shoulders rolling with the exact ease and grace of icebergs. "She went back to Norway. Assimilated, of course, but she couldn't stand America. And you, Loki…"

"Gabriel." The archangel corrected, falling onto a white leather couch and patting the seat next to him, in such a way that Sam felt incredibly emasculated as he sat down.

"Yes, yes." Thor nodded, watching them from the kitchenette of the lodge. "I suppose it would be tactless to ask about her in present company, but…"

"Yes, it would." Gabriel spoke over him, giving Thor a deathly serious glare. Sam stared at him.

"It's ok." Sam kept his voice low, speaking with Gabriel. "You can talk about Angrboda, I don't mind."

Gabriel looked at him for a moment, torn between laughing and cooing. He patted Sam's knee and sat forward, watching as Thor wandered through with a tray full of coffee.

"Have you heard what's going on? Calliope, Apollo, Kali…"

"Yes, those and many more." Thor sighed as he eased himself onto the opposite couch. "But they were foolish, Gabriel. They thought they could… how is it the humans say it? 'Have the best of both worlds'?"

Gabriel stared at him, an unimpressed look on his face.

"Say again?"

"Well… I have it on good grounds that they weren't as assimilated as they claimed." Thor leaned back, spreading his arms along the back of the couch and somehow making himself look more imposing. "Yes, they had human names, human dwellings… jobs, relationships…"

"But they were still… eating?" Sam said, suddenly feeling very aware of his mortality. Thor levelled Sam with a meaningful look.

"So what, you think they started drawing attention to themselves again?" Gabriel sat back with his coffee, watching Thor intently. Sam felt so incredibly out of place that he kind of wished he'd been sat at the kiddy table.

"Possibly. I will say that whoever's killing them knows what to look for. Myself, I'm fine. I'm a ski instructor, I have a name and a job, and I haven't even accepted any of those silly wiccan sacrifices. I don't even take energy from humans." He beamed with pride, and Gabriel nodded.

"Good."

"But enough. Sam! Tell me about yourself."

"Oh… uh…" Sam glanced awkwardly at Gabriel, who made a hand gesture that told him to go ahead. "Well… I'm a hunter, but… uh…"

An so it went. They sat there for an hour, maybe more, chatting about nothing in particular. Mostly, Sam just sat back and listened as Thor dispelled pretty much every myth Sam knew. Eventually, Gabriel leaned back, his eyebrows raised at his old friend.

"So if Sif's moved out, I take it you're a bachelor again?"

"Yes. I miss her a lot, but then what can I do? Plus, being a ski instructor? I get by." He laughed his huge, booming laugh, his sharp eyes shining with mirth. "And what of you? Is this your only one, or are you up to your old tricks?"

"Nah." Gabriel grinned, setting his coffee down on the table. He shot Sam a wink. "This one's more than enough. Hell, if I had to rank 'em, I'd say he screws better than you."

Sam choked on his coffee and dropped his mug on the floor, sending shards of pottery everywhere. Thor just laughed.

"One drunken night… Sam, I'm going to warn you, he never lets you forget anything."

Sam smiled weakly, and made half-formed words implying he'd get some towels to clean up the mess. Gabriel just smirked at him.

"The kids are great too." Gabriel spoke, over Sam's nervous cleaning. "Fen's got puppies now."

"Oh!" Thor cooed, in a manner that was so utterly incongruous with the fearsome thunder-god-warrior image that Sam had to fight back a terrified laugh. "How sweet. And… And little Hella, how is she?"

"Good. All things considered."

"Gabriel, you know… that whole mess, you know I never would have…"

"I know, I know." Gabriel smiled, before turning to Sam, who had just returned and knelt down to clean up his mess. "Thor was the only one who spoke on their behalf, when they got cast out. Angie and I were chained away, wouldn't be listened to. It was Thor's word that stopped them from being killed."

"You are kind, but I think Jör's anger is well placed. I should have done more…"

"It's done." Gabriel waved it aside. "We're moving on. You should too."

Thor smiled gratefully. Sam sucked in a breath, sitting back.

"Ow…"

"You alright?" Gabriel was instantly alerted, shuffling closer to where Sam kneeled on the floor.

"Yeah, I just… it's just a little cut, it's fine."

Thor's voice rumbled in his throat like a brewing storm.

"Get him out."

"Thor?"

"Get him out, Gabriel! Out!" The Norwegian powerhouse was on his feet, staring at Sam with a worrying intensity. He kicked the coffee table aside and grabbed Sam's wrist, but before he could react, Sam felt a cool, calming hand on his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in their empty motel room.

Shaken, and more than a little upset, he sat on the bed and took deep breaths to calm his nerves. After a while, Gabriel appeared, with a face that… Sam stopped that thought. "A face like thunder" was not an appropriate turn of phrase right now.

"What the hell was that?" he managed to say. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Thor has… He's never been that good at resisting temptation. I guess smelling your blood when he's cut himself off for that long…"

"So, what, I'm god-bait now, is that it?"

"I didn't know he'd go that crazy, Sam." Gabriel stared, incredulously. "Gods don't need blood, they crave it. It's an addiction; one which I'd thought he kicked long ago. How could I possibly have known he was that bad?"

"You could have gone without me."

"I told you why I wanted you there."

Sam sighed, matching Gabriel's stare.

"Are all gods really that dependant on human blood?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gabriel stepped towards him, glaring intently. "Hella's safe, if that's what you're worried about. We're not real pagans, Sam, she's half angel, remember?"

"I just…" Sam waved it (and Gabriel) aside, walking to the sink to get himself a glass of water. "Whatever. Forget it, I'm just shaken up."

"No shit." Gabriel didn't move, his eyes intent on the back of Sam's head. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing."  
>"Sam."<p>

"Did you do it too?" Sam turned around, glaring at Gabriel. The thought had been festering in the back of his mind for some time, and now it suddenly seemed very relevant. "Did you ever… eat people?"

"I just said Sam, I don't need to…"

"That's not what I asked. You pretended to be one of them, you lived like them. So you must have, right? At some point, you must have done rituals just like them, if you wanted to fit in."

"Why does it matter?"

"Did you?"

"Sam, I made sure that Loki was a… a powerful but unwanted figure. Someone you wouldn't really want to sacrifice to…"

"Did you eat human blood, Gabriel, yes or no?"

"Alright, yes." Gabriel was starting to get edgy, addressing Sam with an authoritarian tone that was intended to quiet him. It didn't. "Yes, I had occasion, once or twice, but that was hundreds of years ago. Thousands. I don't see…"

"Oh my god. And you were just not going to tell me this? Just because you're not doing it any more, Gabriel, doesn't mean you can just forget it ever happened."

"Ok, so I did a bad thing once to save my ass at the time. Big deal."

"No, don't just dismiss it, it's important."

"It doesn't matter, Sam!"

"It does!"

"Why?" Their voices were escalating. Sam was dimly aware of the fact, but he didn't really care.

"It matters to me, because… I mean, shit, how am I supposed to feel knowing you did that…"

"I don't drag all your past out into the open, Sam. It happened, it's done with, get over it!"

"No. I won't. How can you not understand that this is a big deal for me? You ate people, Gabriel, how am I supposed to just get over that?"

"Well, I got over your demon blood just fine."

The argument stopped dead, the words falling into a cold and heavy silence. Sam stared at the floor. Gabriel cautioned a step towards him, knowing he'd crossed a line. Sam tensed and drew back. Suddenly, Gabriel could barely find the volume to speak, let alone shout.

"Sam…"

"Get out."

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"Leave me alone."

"No, Sam, I just…"

The door slammed on Gabriel's words, leaving Sam to the harsh chill of night.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean and Cas stumbled out of the bar and up to their room just in time to see Sam storm off.

"Sam?" Dean yelled after him, but he was finding it hard to be commanding. The fact was, drunk Cas was funny, and drunk Dean found him even funnier. "Sam, where you going?"

"Leave him." Cas mumbled, leaning against the motel door and debating whether he was really about to be sick or if his stomach just wanted some attention. "He's being a moody moose. I don't have the energy to listen to him."

Dean snorted, and unlocked the motel room.

"Moody moose…"

They stumbled inside. Hella was nowhere around, but they were really too drunk to do anything about it, so Dean collapsed on his bed and began the unfairly difficult process of taking his shoes off.

"I didn't like dealing with Crowley." Cas said, clearly following a train of thought that Dean wasn't alert enough to follow. "He was rude, and harsh, and unfriendly. But, occasionally, he was accurate."

"He say anything about me?" Dean looked up at the other man, pausing before he resumed battle with his left boot.

"I'm not telling." Castiel lay down on his bed, his office shoes sliding off easily. He pulled his tie off over his head and dropped it on the floor, staring at it with disgust.

"Now you're human, we really should get you more than one outfit." Dean muttered, as he cast off his jeans and figured that was good enough for bed. He had just closed his eyes and let himself start to sleep, when he got the curious sensation that Cas wasn't doing what he should. Sure enough, when he summoned the energy to look over, Cas was sat bolt upright and staring at the wall.

"W'ssup?"

Castiel didn't respond, but in the dim light that came from street lamps outside, Dean could make out a troubled expression.

"Cas?" Dean managed to sit up, a little worried at Castiel's intensity. "What's up?"

"Gabriel…" he murmured, his breath coming in uneven gasps. "He's… I can feel him. His emotion."

"That's nothing new, Cas. The empathy's a left-over thing, right?"

"No, Dean, you don't… I've never felt a sadness like it. He is… He's alone."

"So? Just ignore it and go to sleep; you know he won't talk to you about it."

"No, he can't… I can't just ignore it. This is the sadness of an archangel, the last archangel, who… whatever family he's found, he's lost, and he feels responsible. There's so much, I can't…" He shook his head, before smiling awkwardly at Dean. "He left."

"Where'd he go?"

"I don't know. But he's gone." Cas seemed quite shaken, as he lay back on the bed. At that point, Hella appeared with a weary rustle of feathers. The couch transformed into her four poster, and she collapsed on it.

"Was with Fen. Mrs Kane made me stay for dinner. Tired. Sleeping."

And with that she passed out. Dean chuckled, and went to settle back to sleep, when he saw Cas, still staring worriedly at the ceiling. Cautiously, making as little noise as possible, he reached over the gap between the beds, patting Castiel's arm.

"You ok?"

The ex-angel shook his head, his face crumpling as the shock from feeling so much of an archangel's mind finally managed to sink in. It probably wasn't helped by his associating sleep with recurring nightmares, or the whole scenario reminding him of just how much he had now lost forever. Dean gripped his arm, and was surprised, but not resistant, when his legs seemed to auto-pilot him over the small divide. He lay on top of the sheets, an arm round the other man's shoulders, his head against the headboard, holding the horrors at bay.

He'd done it with Sam, when he was a kid. Sam had nightmares, Dad wasn't around, Dean was the only thing Sam had.

He'd sat in a similar style with Ben, not that he liked to think about it.

But this was different. This was Cas, his Cas, broken and lost, silently finding something to cling on to.

Bobby had pretty much kicked his ass for saying it, but Dean saw it as his fault Cas was like this, and he couldn't ever shake that thought. He hadn't talked to Cas, thanked him, listened to him the way he should. Maybe if he'd trusted Sam to take care of himself for once, maybe he could have stopped Cas from doing something desperate. Something stupid. And now, here they were, four months later, with an archangel and a lost, confused man who had no soul, no grace, and nothing to hold onto.

So if he needed something to hold onto, Dean could at least give him that.

They fell asleep like that, resting on each other, Dean above the sheets and Castiel wrapped in his arms. When Hella woke, she didn't tease. She left them there, and went down to the motel's diner to get some breakfast. Sam was already there. And he did not look happy.

"Hey." She tried, sitting down next to him and swiping a slice of his toast.

Sam didn't react.

Christ, things must have been bad.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just…" Sam waved his hand vaguely, gripping onto his coffee cup the way a werewolf victim does to their intestines. "Whatever. Not important. Have you seen anyone else yet?"

"Dean and Uncle Cas are still sleeping." She shrugged, quietly magicking into existence a tub of chocolate spread, and emptying half of it on the poor, bewildered slice of toast. "Where's Dad?"

"Good question." Sam muttered, taking another swig from his coffee. Hella had never felt herself hit a wall of sheer, condensed awkwardness before, but it was, thankfully, quite easy to recognise. They sat in silence for a while.

"Fen says hi." She tried.

It was then that Gabriel arrived, walking in as though his presence was welcome. Hella had a feeling it might not be.

"Morning." He kissed Hella's forehead, and went to give Sam a kiss, but the human moved away, as if making space for him. Gabriel paused for a moment, registering the snub, but sat down all the same.

"Ok…"

"So you're back." Sam said, by way of a greeting. Hella drew her knees up and nibbled quietly on her toast, aware that 'saying things' might not be a good tactic right now.

"Yeah."

"And you disappeared last night because..?"

"You told me to leave you alone. I figured you probably wouldn't want to see me, so I… gave you some space."

"Oh yeah. Right now, when someone's going around killing pagans, this is a great time to drop off the radar." Sam scowled at him, setting his coffee down with more force than was probably necessary.

"Oh my god…" Hella was feeling like she had her own Mexican soap opera playing out in front of her. "Did you guys have a fight?"

"Yes." Said Gabriel.

"No." Said Sam, before shooting a glare at the archangel. "It's… nothing important. We're fine."

"Really? This is fine?" Gabriel stared at Sam. "'Cause it doesn't feel fine."

"Look," Sam practically growled, getting all the more frustrated by how casually Gabriel was goading him. "Can we not do this here?"

"Where would you like to do it?"

"I'm not doing this now."

"Then when?"

Sam glared at Gabriel. Hella sucked air in through her teeth and smiled awkwardly at the two of them.

"Ok… I'm going to… go hang out with Ma. She's visiting Jör today."

"Tell him I said hi. And be safe!"

She hugged her father, kissing him on the cheek, and gripped Sam's hand for a moment, staring at him. He got the impression she was warning him, though Sam honestly didn't know about what. Probably not to piss her father off.

Yeah, well, that was a message several years too late.

Gabriel sat back in the booth, eyebrow raised at Sam.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer you, if it helps."

Sam snorted derisively, before deciding that snorting was not a strong enough reaction.

"I called you, Gabriel. I fucking prayed for you, and you didn't even tell me where you were. You were gone all night."

"I know. And it was wrong of me. But there were… I had things to do."

"Oh, that's fine. Changes everything." Sam muttered, resting his elbows on the table and leaning his head in his hands. Gabriel rested a cautious hand on his back.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I never said I was good at this."

"Yeah… with your history, I kind of had it figured."

"Ouch." Gabriel laughed, happy to at least see a slight smile from his lover. "I mean, it's true, but… And… on the subject of 'things that are true'…"

"Gabe, don't."

"I shouldn't have brought it up. The… um…"

"Dean calls it 'the Ruby incident', if it helps."

"Really?"

"Well… he doesn't use the word 'incident', but there are kids nearby."

"Right. Well, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Not like that."

"No, I… You were right. I just… I got freaked out, I guess. I had no license to be, but… It's a weird thing to know about you."

Gabriel shrugged, sneaking another slice of Sam's toast and creating a jar of marshmallow fluff.

"There's a lot about me to know. And… I guess we should sort it out now, it ain't all good. In fact… most of it probably isn't." He was paying more attention to his toast than was utterly necessary, especially given that angels didn't need to eat in the first place. "I've done a lot of bad in my life, and I think that's why I didn't tell you about the… rituals. Because, to be honest with you, it's probably not the worst thing."

Sam glanced over at Gabriel. He was still mad at him. Still angry.

He was.

Fuck it, he thought, he'd forgiven worse from worse people. He gripped Gabriel's hand.

"You're not a bad person."

"Yeah… well, you keep thinking that."

"So tell me." Sam spoke quietly, watching Gabriel's eyes in a way he realised he had stopped doing. It's funny, how even in his line of work, a few months is all it can take to start taking someone for granted.

"I abandoned my post. Fled heaven."

"I know that."

"I hid, lied, cheated, for years upon years."

"I know that."

"I killed my own brothers, when they came to find me."

Sam nodded. It was new, but not surprising.

"I only married Angie as a sort of… Yggdrasil green card. She wanted freedom to leave the world of the frost giants, I wanted to stay part of the mythology… The kids were really just to make it seem legit."

"Do you love them?"

"Of course I do."

"Then it doesn't matter."

Gabriel chuckled to himself, before looking at Sam. Well, Sam thought "at" was possibly the wrong word. He seemed to be looking into Sam, seeing the extent of his knowledge, his feeling… he looked away, standing silently and throwing down a few bills on the table.

"I will tell you. One day. I just… I guess I can't quite admit it to myself, yet."

"I'll be here." Sam replied, tucking his hand into Gabriel's as they walked back to their room. "Unless Thor tries to eat me again."

"Yeah, I'm not letting that muscle-head near you. Especially not when he's drunk. Hey." He stopped, tugging on Sam's hand until they stood facing each other, and pulled Sam in for a kiss. When they parted, Sam felt oddly light-headed. Occasionally, Gabriel would extend his grace into a kiss, because, or so he said, it was a subconscious expression of his comfort and contentment. Sam was pretty sure he just did it because he liked seeing the way it made Sam act like he was on morphine.

"Thank you." Gabriel smiled up at him, his hand sliding effortlessly down the hunter's arm until they were connected. "For forgiving me. And… accepting that I'm a dick."

"Yeah, you are." Sam smiled, still finding it hard to get over the fact that the archangel-turned-trickster had such a massive tendency to be sentimental. He wondered if he ever would.

True to form, Gabriel punched him in the arm and led him off to their room.

"Come on. Make-up sex time."

"Shouldn't we see if Dean and Cas…"

"No. Whatever it is you're about to say, no."

"But…"  
>"Sam Winchester, you are not about to cock block me."<p>

Fair enough, Sam thought, as he watched a "do not disturb" sign appear on their door handle. He really had argued enough lately.

(-*-)

It was good, Elias thought. Life, in general, was good. Yes, he couldn't get much in the way of a haemoglobin high any more, but he'd learned to live with that. He crossed his legs, the fine Armani fibres of his suit brushing against each other with a slight swishing sound that just exuded expense. The car he was in certainly helped with that.

"Home, Jeeves." He called, the driver giving him a nod in the rear view mirror. God, but he loved L.A. It was as warm as Greece had ever been, or near enough, and it was full of silly mortals who would do just about anything to win their personal games. He checked his Blackberry, bringing up any scheduled appointments for the next twenty four hours.

Yes, it was less fuss than a minion or hell-spawn, but you couldn't torture it if it told you something you didn't like.

His once blonde hair was starting to turn silver at the temples, through choice of course. He would have to move soon. He had been a distinguished late forties for too long. People would start to notice. With the current economic climate, he was considering Japan, but would he really get the same sort of weather?

He looked down at the list of appointments. A business merger, suing the Disney corporation for something he honestly didn't care about (in reality, it was an attempt at revenge for that frankly slanderous movie about Zeus' brat)… He sighed. No one was entirely sure what his job was, least of all him. He was just toying with mortals, really.

Maybe he could go back across the Styx. It was a lot less tiring, down there.

What else did he have? Family reunion with Zeus and Poseidon, poker game with Crowley and Anubis… same old, same old. The car pulled up outside of a sprawling mansion, and Hades climbed expertly from the car. His chauffeur took the car wherever it was that the car went when Elias didn't need it. The man himself strolled inside.

"I'm home." He called, mostly so the servants could run in fear. Persephone. He should call her; she was always good for a laugh.

"Good evening."

He dropped his briefcase and turned without a moment's hesitation.

"What are you doing in my house?"

"What do you think?"

The voice reverberated around the mansion. It came from any one of four shadowed rooms and five dark corridors. Elias quietly drew a knife from his belt. The trend may have been for guns, but he knew better.

"Who are you?"

"Why should I tell you my name?" The voice continued to echo, and Elias was sure the bastard was doing it on purpose. "You will not live to use it."

Elias stared at the darkness around him.

"You seem pretty certain that you're going to kill me. I should warn you, I'm somewhat tenacious."

"I know."

"Really? What exactly do you know?" The knife was light in his hand, and he stood ready.

"I know who you are, Hades. I know I killed your servants when they tried to defend you. I know how to kill a false idol."

"I see." Elias or, as he supposed he may as well be known, Hades, had a feeling he may not be able to win this fight. "I suppose it is futile for me to fight, then."

"Yes." The voice came, instantly followed by a heavy blow that connected with Hades' silver-grey right temple, cracking his skull and sending him crumpled against the nearest wall. He was beaten and tormented with such hatred that is usually reserved for a personal wrong, rather than a misfortune of being what you are. Hades closed his eyes and let the pain claim him, knowing he could not fight, even if he wanted. The assailant was unmatched, at least by him. When he finally felt the cold blade penetrate, sinking between his ribs and tearing through his heart, it was actually a moment of relief. Bloodied, broken and aching, Hades was left to die, his eyes closed, and the slight hint of an ironic smile on his lips as his blood seeped across the under-heated stone floor that seemed to exude expense.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean found waking up next to Cas oddly acceptable. Quietly, groggily, he disentangled himself and stumbled back over to his own bed. He must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knew, Hella was screaming.

Cas at her side, both of them sat on the foot of his bed, the ex-angel was trying to soothe his hysterical niece, while Sam and Gabriel stood in front of them, yelling at some unseen assailant.

"What…"he managed, earning a relieved smile from Castiel.

"Crowley."

Dean was on his feet in an instant, and only then did he see the demon stood by the couch. He had a familiar, scruffy puppy in his arms. The dog was whimpering loudly, earning itself a tighter grip from Crowley.

"Ah. Here's Thing Two, finally joining the rest of us."

"What do you want?"

"Answers." Crowley smiled, shark-like, around the room.

"Put her down." Gabriel indicated the puppy. "And we'll talk. Or, hey, don't, and I'll open a can of archangel on you. Your call."

Crowley flashed Gabriel a simpering smile, before dropping the mongrel pup on the floor. She ran, frightened and yelping, straight behind Gabriel and cowered there.

"Hella." Dean spoke to her, his eyes locked on hers. He knew how scared she was of the demon, and he couldn't say he blamed her. "Why don't you go take the pup back to Fen, before he trashes that trailer park he lives in?"

Slowly, as if having to drag herself back to the present, she nodded. She scooped up the puppy, nuzzled it for a moment, and disappeared. Cas seemed to sag with relief as she did.

"There." Crowley spat, still glaring at Gabriel. "Now, let's talk. I went to visit a mutual acquaintance of ours a few hours ago. One Elias Stephanous or, to give him his birth name, Hades."

"Hades?" Gabriel repeated, something between confusion and concern in his voice.

"Yes. And I have to say that whoever killed him did a pretty thorough job."

"Coming from you, that means something, huh?" Dean tried for cocky. Humour was not appreciated.

"Why are you telling us?"

"Because, you bipedal Elk, if someone is bumping off kings of the underworld, past or present, I have something of a vested interest in the matter." Crowley glared at them. "And normally, you lot are fairly up on your knowledge of things that don't concern you whatsoever, so you seemed like an obvious port of call."

"Would you call yourself a 'God', Crowley?" Gabriel snapped himself up a mug of coffee, adopting a more nonchalant pose.

"Well… I'm not quite as arrogant as the Soul Man over there, if that's what you're asking."

Dean found himself standing in front of Cas almost instinctively.

"But" Gabriel continued, "you have received sacrifices, over the years. Rituals. People have worshipped you."

"Perk of the job." Crowley shrugged, trying to decode what Gabriel was saying.

"Run. Hide. There is something out there killing off everything that any human ever thought was a God. It's pissed, and it makes things personal. If I were you, I'd stay secreted away where only other demons can find you. Because if this thing could kill Hades, Apollo and Calliope without a wooden steak, it's something pretty damn powerful."

"An angel?"

"They weren't killed with angel swords." Castiel spoke, for the first time. "It was not an angel that did this."

"No." Crowley agreed, shaking his head. "And I suppose there aren't that many left, after your little episode."

"Leave."Dean advised, the way in which a tiger usually 'advises' a human off it's territory. Crowley got the hint, and made to leave. But not before staring at Gabriel once more.

"I've only ever seen one breed that strong, Gabriel. Yu might want to send the kids to stay with mother."

"Leave." Gabriel said, with the same force and tone as Dean. Crowley left.

"I need to go find Hel." Gabriel muttered, briefly embracing Sam before disappearing. Sam sighed, raising his eyebrows to Dean and Cas before picking up the coffee that Gabriel had left behind.

"So that was fun."

"Dude, what did I miss?" Dean found himself a clean shirt to pull on, looking from his brother to Castiel, who still seemed quite chastened by Crowley's comments. Dean slapped him on the arm, and encouraged a smile.

"I don't know… it was funny, at first. Me, Gabe and Hella all came in to talk the case, Cas woke up easy enough. We sat there for five minutes trying to wake you; we tried everything. You were out."

"Huh." Dean rolled his shoulders. "Weird."

"I would like to find a library today." Castiel said, speaking to anyone who happened to be listening.

"Think we need more research?"

"No. I would like to find some books to read."

Dean and Cas stared at each other like they'd been speaking foreign languages. Sam drank his coffee and said nothing.

(-*-)

Mrs Krane was already waiting outside her trailer when Gabriel arrived, and she did not look happy.

"Martha."

"What in hell happened? One minute, everything's peaceful, the next, Fen's gone plum crazy, and then Hella turns up with Beej in her arms saying she doesn't want to go back where she came from! What is going on?"

"Nothing." He assured her, smiling kindly. "There was… an incident. It's fine now. All taken care of."

"All taken… my ass, you immortals are more trouble'n your worth." She grumbled, turning and heading back into her trailer.

"She still here?"

"Round back with the pups. Get you a drink?"

"No, thank you." Gabriel smiled as he watched the old woman move her girth back inside. He could not have asked for a kinder, more caring guardian for his grandchildren. Or… grandpuppies… For Fen's kids. She may be crotchety and surly, but she was wise, clever, and she had a lot of love in her.

Hands in his pockets, Gabriel strolled around to the back of the trailer park, instantly set upon by three balls of excitable grey-brown fur, all yipping for his attention. Beej, the only female puppy of the litter, was lying quietly next to her mother, and glaring unhappily at anyone who approached her. Beans, the Irish wolfhound, nuzzled her daughter quietly. Gabriel gave her a respectful nod, knowing she was caring for her. The three males (Leonard, Arthur and Julius, or Len, Art and Jools) were bounding around Gabriel's feet, demanding attention and Trickster brand dog snacks, before bundling back off and promptly play fighting.

Hella and Fenrir were sat together, leaning against the back of the trailer. Hella had been crying.

"Hey."

Fen barked a greeting at his father, before trotting off to break up his own sons from their tussling. Gabriel remembered when Fen had been a puppy just like them.

He sat down next to his daughter, watching Beans and Beans Junior quietly console each other. Gabriel pulled Hella into a wordless hug.

"I dream about it." She sniffed, words flowing as freely as her tears.

"I know you do."

"I dream that I'm trapped in Helheim. The walls are covered in blood, in my blood, and he's there."

"Crowley?"

"Mhm." She sniffed, nodding. "And I know it's just a dream, I know it's not real, but it hurts. And… and then there's someone else. Someone who I need to catch, who can save me, but they run away. They never help."

"Just a dream." Gabriel pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It can't hurt you."

"I know."

"Crowley's gone, now. We can go back, if you want."

She sniffed again, nodding. As she stumbled to her feet, a plastic bag fell out of her pocket. Gabriel picked it up.

"What's… where did you get this?"

"Oh… it's the stone shard, from one of the bodies. I was supposed to take it to a geology lab, but I didn't…"

Gabriel held up a hand, before shaking out the sliver of stone and holding it up to his eyes.

"Huh." He said, before staring resolutely into the distance. Then, without warning, he and Hella were back in the motel room, just as Dean and Cas were almost out the door.

"Get your asses back in here, lovebirds, this whole case just got blown wide open."

Looking very much as though they wanted to argue, Dean and Cas trudged back into the room. Sam looked up at Gabriel.

"Problem?"

"This stone." Gabriel held up the offending fragment. "Why am I only just now seeing this?"

"If you kept your ass in one time-zone for more than five minutes, we would have shown you." Dean scowled, leaning against the back of the door. "Why? You know where it's from?"

"Are you kidding me?" Gabriel looked around, apparently surprised that the answer was only obvious to him. "It's a holy relic… seriously? No one? Castiel, Exodus 32:19."

"And it came to pass, as soon as he came nigh unto the camp, that he saw the calf, and the dancing: and Moses' anger waxed hot, and he cast the tables out of his hands, and brake them beneath the mount." Castiel recited, without batting an eye. "It describes Moses breaking the first tablets of the Ten Commandments when he discovered that his followers had begun worship of a false idol in his absence."

"See" Dean said, rolling his eyes, "that you can remember, but "take off shoes before pants" takes you two weeks to get down."

"What, so that's a shard of the stone tablets?" Hella stared at it. "Huh."

"Yeah, exactly." Gabriel handed it over to her. "Am I right in thinking Balthazar liberated a few relics from Heaven's arsenal?"

"He didn't take the tablets." Castiel said, staring at the ground.

"Can you be s…"

"He didn't take the tablets."

There was an awkward moment where everyone tried to remember exactly what topics Dean had said he'd punch them in the face for mentioning, before Sam picked up the slack.

"Ok, but if it's something that knows about holy relics, it's got to be an angel or a demon, right? So we know what's doing it…"

"Sam, this isn't going to be any old demon." Gabriel stared at him like he'd suddenly dropped seventy IQ points. "The stone tablets are pretty much the holiest relics out there, save for Christ's skull and maybe that DVD I gave you guys."

"Seriously?"

"Created by the voice of God. Technically, that porn film is all scripture."

"So." Sam tried to drag the conversation back to the important issue. "What does it matter how holy it is?"

"There are orders of angels. Ranks. Archangels are… really, we're not that high on the list. The highest order would be the Seraphim…"

"The caretakers of God's throne." Castiel spoke, awe in his voice. "You don't think that…"

"Seraphiel died centuries ago. Blinked himself out of existence. But there was one who… I was the herald of God. I would turn up, make a big shouty noise, make some thunder and lightning, you know, and then the actual message was delivered by…"

"Metatron." Sam guessed, feeling oh so very glad he'd read a few Wikipedia articles on angels when he and Gabriel had first gotten together.

"But Metatron is loving." Castiel shook his head, sitting on the foot of Dean's bed. "He wouldn't…"

"Metatron has seventy names, Castiel. Seventy facets. He was a consciousness so vast he couldn't hold it all together under one name. Angels die like stars; they disintegrate."

"So… we've got an angel." Dean nodded. "Which one?"

"Going on the M.O.?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows, looking rather glum. "I'd say Jehoel. Charged with destroying idolaters and taking care of Leviathan."

"Levia-what?" Dean put in.

"Purgatory beasties. Nasty things, be glad we're not dealing with them."

"But we are dealing with one of the first angels." Castiel sighed. "One of the most powerful… most destructive angels…"

"And Cas is out of power, and I'm going to guess you were brought back without your sword." Sam put in, earning himself a particularly sarcastic thumbs up from Gabriel.

"So what do we do?" Hella stared at the four people she trusted most in the world, not liking the four clueless faces who stared back at her.

It was a fair question.


	8. Chapter 8

Everyone looked to Gabriel for an answer, and Sam got the feeling the archangel really wished they wouldn't.

"Ok. So even if we don't know how to kill it, we know what we're up against. Hella, Cas, neither of you is to go anywhere without Sam or Dean. I mean… Hella, you probably won't be that high on the list, but Cas…"

"He's looking for me." Castiel nodded, staring wide-eyed into space. "I have committed the ultimate treason."

"Woah, hey…" Dean glared around the room. "Why does Cas get black listed? I mean, you said you were a god too, right?"  
>"Yeah, a god, meathead." Gabriel rolled his eyes at Dean. "Not 'The' God. I pretended to be a pagan monster; Castiel claimed to be the new messiah. Odds are, if Jehoel is gunning for anyone, it's him. Sam, would you mind looking after Hella for a while?"<p>

"What about you?" Sam's brow furrowed, his concern waved aside.

"I'll be fine. I'm going to go out and do some recon, talk to some people who might know more than us. Uh… actually, I… It might take a while." He flashed an apologetic smile, sneaking his hand into Sam's. "I'll stick around with you guys 'til you've found a new place to stay. We're not nearly safe enough here. But… tomorrow morning, I'm going to have to go."

"Where's safe?" Dean sighed, glancing around at the group of down and outs. None of them looked like they could take on a Metatron or a Jehoel or whatever it was. If he was honest, he was surprised they'd made it this far. He rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder, not sure who the act was more calming to.

"Somewhere heavily populated." Gabriel sighed, pressing Sam's fingers against his lips. "A city. Somewhere he can't pick out your souls from all the other people. That's the other reason I'll have to leave you; my grace is like a great big homing beacon."

"Ok." Sam nodded. "So, what, we drive out to the nearest city, don't take on any jobs… How long can you stay with us for?"

"I…" Gabriel had never looked more awkward. He shrugged. "A day, maybe two, once you get settled. I'll be visiting as often as I can, but… I think I might be doing more harm than good. It'll be safer for everyone…"

There was another awkward silence. Hella cleared her throat.

"So… we should make a move." She looked around. "Where are we heading?"

"Nearest city's probably Pierre, but it ain't exactly bustling." Dean looked at Cas. Cas looked right back.

"My knowledge of geography is no longer as extensive as it once was."

"Think condensed population." Gabriel advised. "Lots of people in a small state. Delaware, New Jersey…"

"Massachusetts?" Hella perked up. Gabriel shook his head. "No, Hel. I'm sorry, but you can't see anyone except for these three and myself. Maybe if someone comes to visit you, but you can't go flying off to see Fen or Jör anymore. I don't want you drawing attention to yourself."

Hella looked like she was about to argue, but Gabriel turned imploring eyes on her.

"Please, Hel. You know it's for your own good."

She nodded.

"Hampton, then." Sam nodded, feeling oddly calm given the whole situation. "Hella, why don't you go make one last round of your mom and your brothers, tell them you'll be safe with us but don't tell them where you're going. Then catch up with us, if you can, don't fly straight into Hampton."

"We'll start loading up the Impala." Dean nodded, picking up one of their bags. "Cas, get the door."

Hella nodded, still a little shaky, and disappeared. Sam headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To pack our stuff."  
>"So that's it?" Gabriel followed him, trying to catch Sam's eye. "I mean, given your mood this morning, you're taking this suspiciously well."<p>

Sam shrugged, looking around but not quite making eye contact.

"You've got to do what you've got to do. You've got to keep Hella safe. If that means me missing you for a while… that's just it."

"I don't want to go."

"I know." Sam took a deep breath, closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his face. Gabriel approached, running a finger over his shoulder.

"Sam?"

Sam yanked him into a hug, resting his chin on Gabriel's forehead.

"I trust you. I do. I'm going to miss you, and this is going to suck, but… I trust you. You'll do what's right for us."

"Sure about that?

"I'm prepared to bet on it. Plus, I think Hella would track you down and smite you if you left her again."

"True. Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Room in the car for one more?"

"Always. Although I'm not eager to have you and Dean in a confined space again."

"I'll be good. Well, good as I can be." Gabriel smirked. "As long as Dean doesn't say anything stupid. And I don't get bored."

"God help us if you do." Sam hugged him one last time, before picking up their bag and handing it to Gabriel. "Go put this in the car, I'll book us out."

"Ok." Gabriel smiled, stepping smartly out of the room. His thoughts were already drifting, though, to where he needed to be. He'd stay with them 'til they hit Hampton, run a quick warning to Thor, and then hit the skies. Talk to Crowley. And pay a visit to the house on stilts in Alaska. With the purple door.

(-*-)

Hella was stuck again. Her feet frozen to the floor, blood soaked ice creeping up her legs, over her blackened, frost-bitten skin, spreading tiny pricks of excruciating pain through her.

She cried and whimpered, endless, shadowy space resounding with nothing but her own sobs… and laughter. Laughter that was faceless, wordless, shifting from one voice to another but always there. She could feel eyes watching her from the shadows.

"Please…" She managed, between sobs. The ice crunched around her, somehow pulling her down to the ground. She could smell the blood. "I know you're there. You're always here, please… help me…"

The shadowy man stepped forward. He looked, on the corner of Hella's vision, like he was going to run away. Like he always did.

"Please…"

"You don't need my help." The voice was warped and echoey, but uncertain. Hella tried to break her hands free of the ice that was creeping up to cover more of her.

"Please! I know you… Please…"

From out of the shadows, black smoke descended on her, dropping pellets of blood. The ice morphed once more, forming a slab-like table that was horrifyingly familiar.

"Help me!" Hella yelled, knowing the shadowy man was still there. "Please, don't make me… not again…"

"You'll go through it, love." It was Crowley, or something like him. Maybe he wasn't so big, so fat, maybe his skin wasn't so stained with blood, but it was him, and he had with him rows of knives, blades that were designed to sever flash in the most painful way possible. "You'll go through it all over and over again until I stop it."

She thrashed about on the table, but was bound too tight to escape.

"No!" She screamed. "Help me, please, please!"  
>"I mustn't." The shadowy man went unnoticed by Crowley. "I'm not… I shouldn't…"<p>

She screamed again, as Crowley began to cut.

And, before she knew it, the blade, the table, the ice was all gone. The blood and smoke disappeared, their acrid smells fading into distant memories. Wind ruffled her hair, and she realised she was being held. Her feet weren't touching the floor.

"Am I flying?"

"We are."

She looked up at the shadowy man, and saw his face properly for the first time. Everything suddenly made a lot more sense.

(-*-)

"Hella." Hands gently shook her awake. She blinked up at her father, her neck and back instantly protesting that she had dared to sleep sitting upright. "We're here."

"Oh." She blinked again, yawning and looking around. So this was Hampton.

"You and Cas are as bad as each other." Sam laughed from the front seat, as he pushed the door open and got out. Hella turned in her seat to see Castiel beside her, stirring towards wakefulness.

"Rise and shine, get up get up!" Gabriel tried again, smirking as Hella tried to shove him away. "We need to figure out dinner tonight. I'm thinking Sushi?"

"Burgers." Dean stated, dropping some of the bags from the trunk on Gabriel's lap. "Now get us moved in."

Still bickering, Sam, Dean and Gabriel dispersed. Castiel shot a sleepy smile at Hella and climbed out of the car, leaving her o puzzle over the fleeting remnants of her dream.


	9. Chapter 9

They ate dinner in an awkward, sad silence. Gabriel had treated them all to a selection of international favourites, even though no one really had any appetite. Even though they were in a fairly upscale, modern apartment gifted to them under the name of one of Gabriel's old trickster aliases, no one looked comfortable.

Dean didn't so much eat as battle against his burger. Cas and Hella sat side by side, both wearing troubled expressions and not speaking to anyone. Sam and Gabriel leant against each other, trying to make a show out of how they didn't want to make a show of it. Everyone was so wrapped up in themselves, Hella knew no one would spot a little telepathy.

"_I know it was you."_ She thought, picking half-heartedly at her chicken. She knew the message would reach him. _"I know you can hear me, and I know you remember my dream as well as I do."_

There was a long, silent pause.

"_Yes." _The voice, clear and strong in her mind, wasn't hers.

"_Was it always you? That shady figure?"_

"_I think so."_

Hella glanced around the table, glad that no one was watching her. Her eyes shot to her father, the only one who would pick up on what she was doing.

"_I think he might already know,"_ The voice whispered. _"Or suspect."_

"_Suspect what? Why didn't you ever help me, or… or wake me?"_

"_I couldn't. I couldn't interfere."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Be smart, Hella. I couldn't help you. I'm not supposed to have that sort of power."_

Hella struggled to contain her reaction. Whatever response she had been expecting, it wasn't that. She was about to ask more questions, when Gabriel pushed his plate aside and stood.

"Well, kids," he gave a quick, uneasy smile to the assembled group, "I've got to jet. Things to do."

"Really?" Sam half stood, looking like someone just ripped off the band-aid a second before he was ready. "You're not going to stay the night?"

"Sam, I'd love to, but the longer I stay, the harder it's going to be for me to leave. I told you…"

"You said tomorrow."

"It's for us, Sam, for all of us…"

"I know, just… It sucks that we're back to this again. Us standing by helplessly while you have to go off and save the world on your own."

"Well unless you suddenly sprout a pair of wings, you're not…" Gabriel cut himself off, casting a look around the group. He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and then smoothly wrapped his fingers around Sam's wrist.

"I'll be back to say my goodbyes to you all, once Ginormica and I have our moment. _Scuzzi_." And with that, he and Sam disappeared. Dean dropped the last thin crescent edge of his burger, and scratched the back of his neck.

"This place give anyone else the creeps?"

"If you're looking for a diversion, you could always drive me to the nearest library." Cas attempted a weak smile. "We never did get those books."

Dean and Cas stood, looking thankful for any reason to be out of the apartment while they were still able. Cas looked back over his shoulder, to where Hella hadn't moved. "Would you like to come with us?"

"No, thanks." Hella stared up at him, her eyes set. "And we'll continue our conversation later."

(-*-)

When Sam's feet touched ground again, he found himself on the roof of a building. At a guess from his surroundings, he'd say an apartment building or similar, but he was fairly certain they weren't in Hampton, New Jersey.

"Is that the Sistine Chapel?"

"Alright, so laying low isn't my style," Gabriel shrugged, his eyes shining in the light that bounced up to them from the streets. "Call this one last hurrah for the foreseeable future."

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, and smiled at him. It was a weary, troubled smile that was so beyond anything Sam had ever known. It spoke of centuries of trial and error, aeons of missing the mark, and the slimmest glimmer of recently reignited hope.

"I don't want to leave you, you know that."

"Yeah." Sam said, his elbows resting either side of the archangel's neck as his fingers knitted behind his head.

"But you don't believe it."

"What? Of course I do."

"Not really." Gabriel smirked, his eyes still betraying that weird, wise, oldness that sometimes made Sam feel almost awestruck.

"I just… Come on, Gabe, you've got a reputation for making trouble. If I'm not around to look out for you…"

Even though Sam was constantly reminded of Gabriel's cosmic powers, his actual physical strength still surprised him. Sam found himself very suddenly flat on his back, with Gabriel kissing him so hard he was worried he might black out.

"What do I have to do…" Gabriel whispered, as though anyone could hear them on a rooftop at midnight in Italy, "to prove to you that I'm doing the right thing? Or that I hate having to do it?"

Sam didn't say anything. He knew he didn't have to. He would like to think they knew each other well enough to read each other's faces… or at least, he knew Gabriel well enough to know he would always be happy to read Sam's mind when it came to sex.

Suppressing a grin, so as not to cheapen the otherwise relatively romantic moment, Gabriel snapped away their clothes. In an invisible, distant layer of reality, four pairs of golden-tawny wings unfolded, blanketing the lovers from the chill night, and from any hostile forces. It was the two of them, wrapped together in love, dimly aware of church bells tolling in the distance.

Once they had spent themselves, they quietly, calmly dressed and exchanged quick, silent kisses. Gabriel flew them back t the apartment in Hampton, and gave Sam's hand one last squeeze. He left Sam in the front room, while he went to find his daughter.

"Hella?"

"Back here."

She was unpacking her things, tucked away in the small single room at the back of the apartment.

"You going to be ok back here?"

"Yeah," Hella shrugged. "I'll be fine."

He leaned against the doorway, watching her empty her holdall into a chest of drawers.

"I'm sorry I'm leaving again."

She shrugged again, but didn't stop unpacking.

"You've got to do it. You wouldn't go otherwise, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Hel…"

"Nothing! God, what are you so guilty about?"

"I'm not guilty." Gabriel pushed off from the door frame, disliking the way Hella was watching him. "What would I have to be guilty about?"

They stared at each other for a moment more, before Gabriel sighed and held his arms out.

"I'm sorry, kid. This whole business has got me down. I'm all turned around. Give your old man a hug?"

Hella seemed, for a moment, like she was about to refuse, but slotted herself neatly into her father's arms.

"Don't do anything stupid, ok?"

"When have I ever done anything…"

"Dad, promise."

"I promise." He gave her one last squeeze, and let go. "Well… see you soon."

"Bye."

He managed a smile, before he quietly flew away.

(-*-)

Through the years, he had said goodbye to a lot of people, in a lot of languages. Somehow, it always hurt.

He tried to push it out of his mind, though, as he felt his feet make contact with cold, compacted snow, and felt his wings being ruffled by the near arctic winds. Alaska was no more hospitable than it had been the last time, but he supposed if you had lived in Norway for most of your life, you'd probably be more inclined to the cold.

Wrapping his jacket around him to block out the wind, Gabriel walked through the drifts of snow, towards a distant row of houses, perched on stilts. When he reached the house with the purple door, he climbed the ramp and knocked briskly.

A woman with a sunny smile and hair the colour of gold answered the door, embracing him in pleasant surprise. The door closed behind them as they retreated into the warmth.

Gabriel didn't see the small disturbance in the snow, where a young half-angel had followed her father to say one more goodbye. He didn't see her fly home.


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N.: a bit of a rubbishy update given the time it's taken, but real life got in my way. More soon, I promise.**

**(xxxx)**

Sam was not comfortable. Sure, the bed was soft enough, and the room was fully equipped with everything he could possibly need, but he was not comfortable. Yet again, he'd found himself in a position where he was babysitting Hella and Cas, while Dean struggled with his man-crush and Gabriel ran off to save the world. Gabriel went off and put his life in danger, and Sam waited like a lost puppy.

He was starting to feel more than a little useless.

Hence lying, fully clothed, on the bed, at seven forty nine in the evening.

_Oh,_ he thought, as he stared at the clock on the bedside table, _oh… seven fifty._

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

Hella pushed her head around the door, and stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Can I… we need… can we talk?"

"Sure." Sam pulled himself up, so he was sat against the headboard. Hella perched awkwardly on the foot of the bed. "What's up?"

"Um, so… You know I'm cool with you and Dad, right?"

"Yeah…" Sam started, warily. There was no way this conversation wasn't going to be awkward. He could appreciate that talking to your dad's new boyfriend must be an odd experience, especially for Hella who was probably a hundred times older than Sam, and now he was weirding himself out and oh dear god the train of thought has derailed, it's crashed into the countryside killing everyone on board, it's burst into flames as the engine is dragged ruthlessly through trees and over rocks, the few survivors screaming, wailing for their right to live, bemoaning their fate and…

"Sam?"

"What? I… what?"

"I said, 'how do you feel about him'? I mean… I know it's not the sort of thing you'll want to discuss with me, but… I need to know."

"Oh…" Sam blinked, his brain flatlining. "I… Hella, this isn't… I mean, adult relationships aren't straight-forward. It's…"

"I know that." She rolled her eyes. "God, do you think I'm a total social reject?"

"Well, you had been pretty much a recluse until six months ago."

She frowned at him, unimpressed.

"Just humour me, Sam. I need to know. How serious are you and Dad?"

Sam puffed air out through his cheeks, shrugging.

"We're… I don't know, Hel, it's not an easy question."

"Do you love him?"

Sam stared at the bed sheets.

"I'm in love with him."  
>"So… you do love him?"<p>

"I… Yes. I do."

Hella stared at him for a moment, apparently thinking about this. Sam gave her a wary smile.

"Don't." She said, eventually. She shook her head, staring at him with sad eyes. "Just… trust me on this. Don't love him. He can't love you back."

"Whoah, what?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm saying it for your own good. Just look at his case history. He's never been the one to settle for just one person. Please don't love him, because I don't want to see you hurt. I'm sorry." Her eyes wet with tears, her lip wobbling, she ran from the room. Sam, perplexed, followed her.

"Hella! Hel!"

His words resounded off her bedroom door, which she slammed shut in his face. He stood there, staring at the wooden panel for a moment, before slowly returning to his own room.

Maybe it was a teenage girl thing, he told himself.

Maybe she was just going through some teenage girl thing.

She probably didn't mean it.

He lay down and resumed staring at the clock.

(-*-)

Dean and Castiel returned from their drive, library books in tow, to the darkened apartment.

"Cas."

"Yes?"

Dean stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head and smiling.

"We should get some sleep. Night."

"Good night."

Castiel smiled and wandered towards the room he had earlier been assigned. As he passed Hella's door, however, he could hear stifled sobs.

"Hella?"

There was no response. He poked his head around the door.

"Hella?"

She was fidgeting, writhing, crying in her sleep. Cas gently shook her, perching on the side of the bed. "Hel. Wake up."

She jolted herself awake, looking around the dimly lit room with tears in her eyes. When she saw his face, she let her head fall back against the pillow and cried.

"It's alright. It was a dream." Castiel found himself using the words he remembered Dean saying to him. He placed his hand on Hella's shoulder. "Dreams can't hurt you."

"No…" She sniffed. "Dreams can't."

"I'll let you sleep." Cas stood to leave.

"Wait." She grabbed his wrist, red-rimmed eyes staring at him defiantly. "We still need to talk."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Very well." Castiel sighed, and sat at the foot of her bed. "What do you wish to know?"

"It was you, then, in my dream."

"Yes."

"When you said you aren't supposed to have that sort of power…"

"It's too… angelic." Castiel looked down at the bedspread, shame creasing his brow. "Empathy is one thing, but dream-walking… I can't control it. It just… happens."

"Then why keep it so secret? Especially from me, Cas, it's my head."

"I know. I felt… I hoped that it wasn't really happening. That it was my own dream."

"Are you going to tell Dean?"

"I should. After how he has taken care of me, dishonesty would be a bad idea."

"But you don't want to."

"I know how Dean feels about me." Castiel sighed. "I don't need empathy to know. Now I am without powers, now I am human, he finally sees me as a real friend. An equal. My suffering may not be a level which he can relate to, but we are on the same level. This would be a reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

"Of who I am. Of what I've done."

Castiel rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, turning a weary gaze on his niece.

"I don't want to give him a reason to leave my side."

Hella smiled a small, conciliatory smile.

"I don't think he will. But… I think you have to give him the chance. I think you'll only upset yourself more if you don't."

Castiel sighed a half-laugh, and clutched her hand in his. "You're wise, young demi-god. Good night."

He stood, smiling wearily, before heading to the door.

"Uncle Cas?"

"Yes?"

"When Dad left today, I followed him."

Castiel looked at her for a moment, reading in her face everything that she didn't say out loud.

"Hella," he said, eventually, "the wisest beings know to take their own advice."

(-*-)

Gabriel emptied the contents of the stone goblet into the bowl, watching as the various mystical items swirled together. He did one last check of the area (an abandoned car park in a particularly desolate Russian town; the only place there would be a mile-wide certified empty diameter), and set a match to it.

The runes he had painted on the floor flickered and shone, before brimming with light.

The floor shook, and the light grew unbearably bright, but Gabriel stood his ground. It was like being at ground zero when a comet hit.

Eventually, the air stilled.

"Jehoel." Gabriel bowed his head. Even he found himself duty-bound and slightly terrified at the sight of the angel.

This particular face of the Metatron had taken a female vessel for the sake of its vendetta.

Jehoel turned her large, green eyes on the ring of holy fire that surrounded her.

"Gabriel. You mean to stop me?"

Gabriel swallowed back fear. A five and a half foot tall, mid-weight, prematurely grey-haired woman should not have struck fear into him like that, but then, he could see her real form. Castiel's true form had been about as big as the Chrysler building. Gabriel's was roughly the size of France. But Jehoel… She would have taken up the continent of Europe, and then some. Fifteen faces, nine pairs of wings, all glowing the colour of the cosmos.

"Not… Not to get in your way or anything. I just want to, uh… talk."

"You always were impudent." She sighed, turning her large, staring eyes on Gabriel.

He'd forgotten how much he hated family reunions.

(-*-)

Sam woke to see a mug of coffee on his bedside table, and Hella sat in the chair by his bed.

"Hel?"

"I owe you an explanation."

"Yeah, you do." Sam sat up, taking the coffee but making a point of looking as perturbed as possible.

"I shouldn't have said that yesterday." She smiled awkwardly at him, her fingers idly twisting strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Or you could have explained what you meant."

"I will. Just… Sam, how much do you know about Dad? I mean, really know about him?"

"Probably not as much as I should," Sam's brows drew together in worry. "Why?"

"Maybe you should look him up. I'm not going to rat him out or anything, but… maybe you should start asking questions."

She let that sentence sit in silence for a little while longer, before she stood and moved towards the door.

"I'm going to wake Dean up now. Cas is making breakfast. Come join us."

And she left. Sam felt very confused.

"_Gabriel," _he prayed, knowing the archangel would hear him. _"I think Hella's worried about you. She's acting weird. I miss you already. Come back as soon as you can… I love you._"

He waited a few minutes for a response, but none came. Sighing, Sam got dressed, started up his laptop, finished his coffee and opened up the internet.

He hesitated for a moment, before his fingers picked out the letters. "Loki myths and lore".


	11. Chapter 11

Sam had suspected that the majority of the information he could find on a Norse trickster would be vague, and riddled with contradictions. He had been researching (and trying to tell himself this was no worse than reading your boyfriend's facebook wall) for a half hour, and so far he only had three concrete facts:

Loki had been reputed as a shape-shifter, which Sam already knew,

The trickster was all about revenge and taking people down a peg or two, which, again, was not news, and

Angrboda was not his only wife.

It didn't surprise Sam, really, but the more he delved into the myths surrounding Gabriel's romantic past, the more unsettled he became by the bandying around of phrases like "true love" and "eternal companion". His mouth was starting to go dry, and he couldn't tell if his eyes hurt from staring at page upon page of tiny text, or if there was some more emotional reason.

One word seemed to be following him throughout his search.

_Sigyn_.

(-*-)

In the middle of that Russian car park (underground, now with no lights and a massive crater in the floor), Gabriel and Jehoel stared each other down.

"Why should I listen to you, traitor?" she remained calm and aloof, and used the word more like it was his name than an insult. "You are an imposter, and worse, you made an idol of yourself."

"Yeah." Gabriel nodded, "I did, and it may have been a dumb thing to do, but even I can't go back and change that."

"Those humans who worshipped you have burned in the pits of damnation for not following God's commandments."

"Honey, by the 4th century, they hadn't heard God's commandments…"

"But you had."

"It says for humans not to worship other Gods. It doesn't say that there shouldn't be any."

"You defend this pagan filth?" She scowled, her face only managing to hold emotion for a brief moment, before returning to a flawless stare. "You are not the messenger I once knew."

"Leave them out of it." Gabriel sighed, feeling his usual bravado slipping away. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he was just fully aware that he appeared to have brought a spoon to a knife fight. Whatever the reason, Gabriel knew he couldn't do much more than plead and reason. "If your beef is with me, come get me."

"And the blasphemer Castiel?"

"He knows what he did. He lives every day with the pain of it. He's been punished plenty."

Jehoel seemed to consider this for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Your blood is not nearly enough sacrifice. The blasphemer Castiel-"

"Is a child." Gabriel said, his eyes set, "he is barely older than a fledgling, and burdened with the knowledge of a thousand millennia. If you're going to punish anyone for his stupidity, punish me for not leaving him in TV land. Least his sorry ass couldn't have hurt anyone there, and he could have vented that adolescent frustration in Wrestlemania."

Jehoel stared at him.

"This mortal world has turned you peculiar."

And didn't Gabriel know it.

Suddenly, with the quiet insistence of a bee flying by his ear, Gabriel heard a prayer. He recognised Hel's voice immediately.

_"Sam wants to speak to you. You should come home to us. I love you. Don't blow it."_

Gabriel smiled apologetically at Jehoel.

"I'm going to have to leave you here until we can resume this little reunion."

"Release me."

"What, and have you killing off more of my poker buddies?"

"Gabriel…"

"Gotta fly, toots, but I'll be back real soon." Gabriel was careful not to stir up anything that could break the ring of holy fire. If there was one thing he did not want chasing him to Sam's side, it was something as fierce and all-knowing as Jehoel. Not even God knows what she could do.

When he made it back to Sam, the hunter barely looked up from his laptop. Back against the headboard, long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, he certainly didn't look like he was in any hurry to talk to him.

"Hey Gigantor, not that I don't appreciate a booty call, but I was kind of in the middle of something. You want to hurry this along?"

Sam slowly turned his eyes on Gabriel, looking no more hurried than if he had been asked whether he wanted Chinese or pizza for dinner.

"Amy Pond," he said, like it was an actual answer.

Gabriel thought he replied quite reasonably.

"Who the shit is Amy Pond?"

"She was the first girl I ever had a crush on. 'Course, she turned out to be a brain eating monster, so that didn't really go anywhere. Then there were a couple of girls from school… Helen Kriss and Jenny Fitzhugh… and a brief thing with a guy named Taylor whose last name I honestly can't remember. An experimental phase. Then Jessica Moore, love-of-my-life, or so I thought. I mean, after that, there were girls I slept with, but it wasn't love. Infatuation, or something. The whole thing with Ruby was… just fucked up. So, yeah. That brings us up to date."

Gabriel stared at him for a moment.

"Riiiiiiiiiight…"

"I know I've been alive for, like, a tenth of the time you have or something, so my list is likely to be ten times shorter, but you now know all the people I ever was in love with," he said, setting his laptop aside on the bed. The silence sat for a while, before Sam eventually kicked his legs over to sit up and rest his feet on the floor.

"So now it's your turn."

Gabriel blinked, taken aback.

"What, you want a list of all my past relationships? You called me back from chasing down Jehoel for this? Oh, Sam, I'm sorry if you're becoming a bored little housewife, but Poppa's got some important stuff going on down at the plant, honey, I have to put in the extra hours."

"Don't do that." Sam glared at him. "Don't act like I'm being irrational. There's a lot you haven't told me."

"Yeah, and there's a lot I haven't asked of you. I didn't ask you what you had for breakfast this morning, does that make me a bastard?"

"If this is going to work…"

"Have you been reading Cosmo?"

"We need to be honest with each other."

"Who's lying?"

"Lies of omission, Gabriel, are still…"

"I don't have time for this. Sorry for trying to save your stupid race."

"Who's Sigyn?"

Another argument ended by a short sentence dropping in like a meteorite. Gabriel blinked, and looked for a moment like Sam had punched him (well… as if Sam had punched him and he was something more likely to actually feel it, and not made of super-arcangel-adamantium). In that second, his eyes grew wide and his face dropped. His brow creased, and he looked so small, powerless and human. Sam had seen that look before, in the circle of fire in a warehouse where he was told that he and Dean had to play the roles destiny had given them.

But just for that moment. In the blink of an eye, he was back to his usual scornful smile.

"Who? Sam, buddy, you've been spending too much time on that brainbox there, it's sent you a little funny." He tapped Sam's forehead with a pointed finger, but Sam brushed him away.

"Hel told me. She said she followed you to a house in Alaska. I found a few stories online that said Sigyn was supposed to be your favourite wife, the goddess you loved eternally. That she gave up her life to save you from the poison that dripped on you when you were chained to a rock."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read."

"Unless you tell me something, I don't have anything else to believe." Sam sighed, stood, and walked past Gabriel to the door. "Whenever you have the time to talk, I'm ready to listen."

And he left.

(-*-)

Dean and Cas sat at the table, trying not to overhear anything. It wasn't easy. Sam and Gabriel hadn't exactly been quiet during their discussion, and the fact that the moment Sam had slammed the front door, Gabriel had decided to blame Hella for this turn of events meant that there was definitely an elephant or two in the room.

"So," said Dean as Gabriel demanded to know what business Hella had butting in like that, "you want to do something today?"

"Yes…" Cas cleared his throat as Hella shouted a few vicious sounding words in Norwegian. "I would like to, um… go to… the, uh…"

"The place that isn't here?" Dean supplied, as Gabriel spat out a few choice words. Cas nodded, and they both made a hasty exit.

In her room, Hella was throwing everything, words and nearby objects, at her father.

"Don't put this on me. It's all your fault…"

"You should really watch your tone, Hel, or you'll get…"

"What? Grounded? Try me, see if I honestly care. And you're welcome, by the way."

"Welcome?" Gabriel had to restrain himself from smiting her then and there. "For what? For scaring the shit out of Sam? For making me lose Jehoel? Who, by the way, has gone off the grid and will be impossible to summon again."

"No, for making you tell the truth. You can't lie to him, Dad, he doesn't deserve it."

"If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it, but in future, why don't you keep your meddling out of my business?"

"If it wasn't for my meddling, you'd still be dead." Hella spat, before collapsing back on her bed and summoning up an ipod. Gabriel could hear the tinny blaring from across the room.

"Hey, I'm not finished with you."

Hella stuck up her middle finger and closed her eyes. Gabriel grabbed her wrist and scowled at her, overtaken by anger.

"Ow, Dad, get off…"

"You ought to respect me, girl."

"Dad…"

"I've put up with your immature whining for long enough, but I won't raise a brat. It's high time you grew up…"

"Dad you're hurting me!" Hella shoved at him, her eyes watering slightly. Gabriel saw the fear in her, and regained his control. He backed off.

"I… I'm sorry. But you can't just butt in like that."

"Why not?" Hella's voice faltered, as she rubbed her wrist and shuffled back up the bed, away from her father. "Because you weren't ready to face up to your actions?" She sniffed, and Gabriel felt about an inch tall as he saw his daughter's face crumple. "If there's someone here who needs to grow up, Dad, it's not me."

And with a rustle of feathers, she disappeared. Gabriel cursed to himself and punched a wall.

Shit.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam had been walking for some time, the concrete sidewalk pounding into his heels and making his shins ache. He didn't care. Eventually, there would be enough physical pain there to take his mind off of the crap that was floating around in it.

This, he supposed, was all the proof he needed. This stupid, crazy case that they never should have taken told him all he needed to know about his feelings towards Gabriel, and more than he would have liked about the archangel himself. He cared. Sam actually cared about Gabriel, loved him, even, and got the distinct impression that the feeling was slightly less than mutual. He'd yet to see any proof that Gabriel was even capable of the kind of love he was supposed to have for his… wife. Sam felt the word rankle in his mind.

Wife.

_Wife._

He wasn't sure if the ancient Norse wedding vows included phrases like "'til death do us part", but he figured immortal love really could be a thing between a god and an archangel. So Gabriel had a wife, who he possibly still loved and pined for. The fact that Gabriel was even capable of that sort of love was something Sam wasn't even sure of, but that didn't make him feel better. Had Gabriel been thinking of her, while he was with Sam? Was there an answer to that question he would be happy to hear?

"Nice to know I inspire trust in you, Sammy," a familiar voice muttered, as the hard concrete was suddenly replaced with soft, powdery snow, and the temperature dropped quick enough to make Sam's lungs hurt. He felt a thick coat materialise around his shoulders, and stared at the offending archangel, who at least had the good sense to look ashamed.

Sam didn't say anything. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to him. He knew Gabriel would seize on the silence as an opportunity to get in his two cents, but Sam really didn't have the strength of will to argue. He waited for Gabriel's scathing monologue of sarcastic one liners and declarations of how it was really _him_ who had been wronged. After all, that was what it all came down to. According to Gabriel, abandoning Heaven was his only course of action, he was pressganged into his role as Loki, he did everything to teach someone else a needed lesson… So Sam waited.

But it never came.

What happened was Gabriel taking Sam's hand, warming it in his own, and looking down at his feet. The he shone a reluctantly hopeful smile at Sam, scratching his cheek awkwardly with his free hand.

"If you still want to know… If you still want anything to do with me… I'd like you to meet her. Sigyn."

(-*-)

He and Thor had made their way to Midgard, to hunt wolves and drink heavily. It was, unsurprisingly, Thor's turn to pick the weekend's entertainments. If Gabriel had his way, it would involve chasing Nymphs up and down Yggdrasil and watching the more dopey dwarves be driven crazy by illusions.

Loki.

He was Loki, not Gabriel, and he had to start thinking it, too.

Thor had been tracking a particularly tricky alpha all morning, and they finally had cornered. Thor pounced, wrapping the glorious grey beast in his huge arms, and wrestled it to the ground. The wolf bit and clawed, its teeth shining in the afternoon sun, its eyes wide and wild. They crashed together down the rocks and through the trees, landing heavily in a small stream. The wolf got free and ran as fast as it could further into the forest. Thor didn't lose any time giving chase.

As Gabr-

As Loki leapt nimbly down the rocky slope, laughing, his ears caught a quiet gasp. His head turned instinctively to the source of the sound, and at first saw nothing. Then a dark shape moved in the dark recesses where the rocks hung over the stream. He flexed his fingers, curling his hand defensively into a fist.

"Who's there?"

"Don't hurt me." A woman's voice answered, her accent telling him he was one of the rural Norse, possibly a nomad.

"Show yourself," he commanded, not letting his guard down any. He did not put in any for this gender stereotype nonsense. Women, in this day and age (410 ad, last he checked) were just as likely to rip your guts out as most of the men. More likely, actually, in his experience.

The dark shape moved carefully around the rocks, slowly pulling herself up to full height. She stood just a little shorter than he did, and as she stepped forward into the light, she revealed blue eyes and long red hair, tied back into a thick braid. She wore furs over her long black dress, and carried a baby in a sling around her chest.

The sun shone on her, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

"You know who we are?" Gabriel spoke, at length.

She nodded a response.

"Tell no one that you saw us here, and I shall guarantee your safety from my kind."

"And my son?"

"Yes."

She nodded again, and he knew she was watching him carefully. After all, who would take the words of the chaos god at face value?

"I give you my word, not as a God… not as Loki, the trickster, but as a father. What is your name?"

"Sigyn."

"Sigyn. No harm shall come to you or your son, as long as I live." He smiled, in an attempt to be reassuring, before backing into the forest. Their eyes remained locked together, until the tree line blocked them from each other's vision. He knew, from that moment, that he would fall in love with her.

(-*-)

Sigyn opened the door to Gabriel, but it was Sam she swooped on and greeted with a tight hug.

"Oh, finally! It's so good to meet you! Is Hella here too?"

"No, Sig, some other time."

"She still doesn't like me." Sigyn reminded Sam of Ellen, so very much. Her face had the same slightly plump, careworn appearance, slightly dusted with powders and blushes, but clearly a natural beauty too. Her long, fire-red hair was half swept up into a messy bun, half hanging loose from where it had worked its way free.

"She's not ready. She will be." Gabriel smiled, and patted her on the arm. "But I brought the big guy, doesn't that win me some points?"

"Not nearly enough to get you one of the brownies I have baking in the oven." She smirked, grabbing Sam's arm and dragging him into the house, ignoring Gabriel's pout. "Come on in, Sam, sweetie. I have to respect you mortals for what you've done. You know, the big-heads will claim a lot, but not one of them actually had any input of the creation of modern recipes? That was all human, right there. So be proud of that. Desserts are all yours, never mind whatever he brags about to get you in the mood." She winked.

"Thank… you?" Sam tried, a little awkward.

"Sam's a bit too shy to outright ask," Gabriel called after them, "but he'd like some background on our situation."

"And I'm going to give it to him!" She sighed, casting Sam a "isn't he so tiresome" look. Sam suddenly felt like he'd been dragged into some sort of _Meet the Fockers_ in-laws comedy, and honestly had no idea how to make his face work into a sort of response. Sigyn smiled, and clicked on the coffee percolator as she sat him down in a gleaming, copper-and-white-tile kitchen. "But not before we get some coffee."

(-*-)

He loved her.

He loved her.

He had crept back to the rocky outcrop and the stream, disguised as a squirrel, watching and waiting for her. He had followed her to her small settlement, a hut made of sticks and mud, with a warm fire and a collection of furs and blankets.

He loved her.

He brought food for her, leaving it for her to find, leaving his rune on it, so she would know it was his gift. He was so glad when she finally called upon him, he promised her his heart.

They talked. They laughed.

He told her everything she wanted to know, and she wanted to know everything.

He told her his true name.

He loved everything about her, and when they lay together as man and wife, he got the distinct impression this might be the happiest he would ever get to be.

"Gabriel…" She whispered one night, as they looked up at the stars, his name sounding so odd in her mouth, in a voice that was not meant to speak it for another few centuries.

"Sigyn?" He replied, waiting for another question. Her curiosity was insatiable, and he loved it. He hoped she never stopped asking him questions.

"You don't sleep. You don't die. You don't age. You will see me, and my son, grow old… how does it feel?"

Gabriel sucked air in through his teeth, and turned his face to the crib of furs that held her infant babe.

"Strange. Tainted. Kind of like a curse, I suppose."

Silence descended over them, staring through the gaps in the mud and branches that housed them. A wolf cried in the night. The baby woke, and cried for food. Gabriel watched the two of them, mother and child, interacting in a way he had never seen Agrboda and their children. So mortal, so human, so true.

(-*-)

"So, you're not a goddess?" Sam said, trying to wrap his head around what he had been told.

"No." Sigyn mumbled through a mouthful of brownie, shaking her head.

"And… you two aren't married?"

"Nope. Just a couple of messed up kids who grew up and figured out they were better friends than boink-buddies." Gabriel grinned, watching the swirls of milk in his coffee.

"Distant friends." Sigyn added, to an eye-roll from Gabriel.

"That wasn't my choice."

"No one said it was. Did I say it was your choice?"

"You implied…"

"Could you get back to… explaining things?"

Sigyn beamed at Sam, and lifted another brownie out of the tray and onto his plate.

"See, the real trouble started when the Valhalla crowd noticed what was going on. They just had to get involved, because it was a way they could get rid of the smart-ass over there. And wouldn't you take that chance if you had it?"

"He already did, staked me straight through the heart and trapped me in a ring of holy oil."

"Shh, don't interrupt her."

(-*-)

The great, spiralling towers of Valhalla had never looked so bleak. The ornately carved treetop palaces had never looked so dull, the dark, polished wood stained with blood. Odin sat proud on his throne, silver hair shining from under his helmet.

"This is a dick move, Odin, even for you…" Gabriel hissed, from his place of binding, where he stood chained by Odin's chair. Chains he couldn't break. They knew he was weakest n Valhalla, the only place he was completely cut off from the host, in a hub of Pagan faith. They didn't know why, but they knew he would not enter Valhalla if he could avoid it. So, the chains held him, no matter how he struggled.

"Silence, trickster, the time for you to speak your peace is over. Now we shall cast our judgement on you… and your spawn."

The bottom fell from his stomach. They had fought him, turned against him, cried that prophecy had been made, and to defend the world from their Ragnarok, their end of times, the Trickster had to be detained.

Never had they mentioned Gabriel's children.

Before him, a fleet of Valkyries carried in his four bloodied, screaming children. One held Jormungandr, tall and wiry, barely into adolescence. His face was bruised and his arms covered in blood. He could barely stand, his mane of blonde hair hanging in bloody clumps from his scalp. Next to him, a Valkyrie dumped Hella, her clothes tattered and dirty, exposing her ash-black legs. She stared at her father through the blood that had pooled in her eyes, her face pink from screaming. She looked at him, and Gabriel knew she was begging him to be her saviour, her hero. His little girl, her chubby fingers winding themselves around her older brother's, about to learn the most horrible lesson any daughter has to learn- that her father cannot always protect her. And so young…

The twins, for twins they had been, then, were dumped beside her, Fenrir barely a pup, his fur matted, tail between his legs as he cowered in fear. Vali crouched beside him, staring at the floor, quaking.

"The spawn must be killed!" A voice cried from the crowd of assembled gods, to much laughter and agreement.

"No!" Gabriel yelled. "No. Ask your son, Odin. Thor, Thor will vouch for them."

"Thor." Odin yelled, silencing the crowd. "Thor Odinson, come forward."

Thor did not. Gabriel cursed under his breath. After all he'd done, all they'd been through together, he didn't care enough to vouch for them? The assembled gods laughed, but Odin silenced them again.

"The fact that you care for your spawn, trickster, shows us you are not purely evil. But the children cannot be saved, nor can they be allowed to live s near us. Which of them is the snake?"

"I am." Jormungandr spoke, his voice cracked and uneasy.

"He shall be cast down into the seas of Midgard, and shall fight his battles with them. If he survives, his reward shall be dominion there."

A Valkyrie sunk her long white fingers into Jormungandr's shoulder, and he gasped with pain. He struggled, but it was no good, and the Valkyrie dragged him away to some hidden place. Hella screamed, reaching out for her older brother, but she was promptly knocked to the floor by yet another soldier. Jormungandr was taken, and Gabriel hoped he'd have enough strength not to pass out the moment he hit Midgard's waters.

The Valkyrie that had thrown Hel to the floor picked her up by the hair, and held her out to Odin.

"What of this abomination? She serves no purpose, she isn't smart, and… is hideous to look upon."

Murmurs went around the crowd as Hel kicked and thrashed, exposing her ashen black legs. Some pointed. Gabriel wanted so much to leap up and defend her, but he couldn't.

"Kill her," Odin said, as though her were talking about a fly.

"No! No, Odin…" Gabriel stared up at him, fully aware that pleading was about all he could do. "She could be of use to you yet… she's… she's only young, a child, she can learn anything she puts her mind to. What service she could offer the king of Gods…" Service may not have been much better than death, in Gabriel's eyes, but he couldn't see his daughter killed by unfeeling Valkyrie bitches. Odin considered.

"Then she shall be cast into Helheim, and service the gods by taking care of her domain. Is that the sort of service you had in mind, Trickster?"

The gods laughed, and rightly so. The girl may as well be dead, for all the good being in Helheim would do her.

As she was dragged away, Hel screamed for her father.

It left only the twins, sat cowering together, Fenrir staring up at his surroundings, Vali staring into the distance.

"The dog will have free reign over Midgard. Pray he survives."

A Valkyrie lunged for Fenrir, and his frightened yelp seemed to make Vali snap. He leapt, screaming like an animal, scratching, biting and gouging anything he could reach. Gods screamed as the whirlwind of hatred spun towards them, but Odin struck the child with his sceptre, and soon it was calm enough again.

"More wolf than your brother, you abomination. I cast you to walk Midgard as you are, with the body of man but the mind of wolf. See how far that will get you."

And, just like that, the twins were dragged away.

Gabriel wanted to die, but his ordeal wasn't done yet.

"Bring in the women."

Chained and bound, just as he was, Agrboda was marched in, followed by…

Sigyn.

Gabriel had to fight back tears.

"I do not love the trickster." Angrboda spoke up, staring Odin straight in the eye. "We have not lain together except to create children. Kill him, banish him, I do not care. But let me go." She pulled herself up to her full height and, although Gabriel could tell she was nervous, he seemed to be the only one. Odin seemed to want mot not to look at her.

"Go home, Giant, and make sure your path never crosses a gods again, or your head will be forfeit."

She nodded, and let herself be unbound. She gave Gabriel a look which he understood, and which said so much even though it only lasted a second.

_I'm sorry._

_ I'll miss you._

_ I will try to care for them._

He tried to smile at her, but couldn't bring himself to do it. The attention of the gods had been turned on Sigyn.


	13. Chapter 13

Sigyn was cut off as a timer beeped on the counter beside her.

"Oh… I'll be back in just a minute, ok, hun? Help yourself to any brownies or cocoa." She gave another beaming smile and darted out of the kitchen.

"Want me to finish up the story?" Gabriel called after her, to which she gave a lilting call that sounded vaguely affirmative. Gabriel turned to Sam. "I know I don't have quite the flair for storytelling dear Sig has, but…"

Sam scooped another couple of brownies out of the tray and put them on his plate, sliding the lot to one side so it sat between him and Gabriel. "Go on."

"Well…" Gabriel broke off a chunk of chocolate and flicked it into his mouth. "The whole Valhalla crowd were not happy with Sigyn."

(-*-)

Sigyn stood, quaking slightly under the gaze of the assembled gods, and the hands of a stern-faced Valkyrie.

"To love the Trickster is a crime against Valhalla, against all Yggdrasil," Odin boomed, smiling sadistically at the fear in the woman's eyes. "And we all must be punished for our crimes."

The gods snickered. They knew no one was about to punish them.

"But what of that child of yours?"

Gabriel felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, a tidal wave of tenseness and nausea descending on him.

"If he is any blood kin of the Trickster, then we cannot allow him to live."

"No…" Sigyn was trembling from head to foot, shaking her head and barely able to speak. "No, no no… no, you prom… no you promised, no…"

"Odin, the child isn't mine." Maybe Gabriel sounded a little too desperate, but he couldn't hold back the jolt of nerves. "Nothing to do with me. An innocent."

"Blood is needed to bind the trickster," Odin ignored him, staring at Sigyn, "and so you have a choice. Either your blood will bind him, or your child's."

"Mine." Sigyn said, without hesitating. "Mine, take what you want, kill me if you must, but leave my son safe."

"No, Sigyn…"

"Very well." Odin said. "Your son shall be eternally tied to one of our Gods, and shall be at his side forevermore."

"Sigyn, don't do it…" Gabriel knew not to trust a pagan God, especially one like Odin.

"I have to," but she was quaking as she said it, "Someone has to keep him safe, and you… you can't keep your promise."

A Valkyrie took Sigyn's arm, and made a long, deep cut with a hunting blade. It bled freely, and the blood pooled on the dark wood floor.

"The blood seals the Trickster's banishment." Odin nodded.

"And my son?"

"Bring the child to me."

Then Sigyn's son, wrapped in a bundle of furs, little more than a baby, was carried to rest at Odin's feet.

"He shall be bound to the side of a lesser god… The god of night and chaos."

Gabriel should have seen it coming, but it was a mean trick, even for Odin.

"Valkyries. Use the child's innards to tie Loki to his place of banishment. And make sure the boy will only die if the Trickster tries for freedom."

Sigyn managed a strangled scream before passing out, blood still flowing from her arm. The last thing Gabriel heard, as the Valkyries descended on him and took advantage of his weakened state, was the inconsolable screams of a baby boy.

(-*-)

Sam gaped at Gabriel, who sipped casually at his coffee.

There was a long, silent pause.

"And then what?"

"Uh, I died." Gabriel shrugged, grinning.

"That's not funny. It's you; you could be telling the truth."

"Yeah, ok. What happened was, they dumped Sigyn on a mountainside, knowing she'd spend her life trying to keep myself and her son comfortable. They used his guts to tie me to a rock. Really nasty, even for them."

"But… what did… I mean, did you…" Sam couldn't think of a tactful way to put it. Thankfully (or, unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint), he was interrupted at that moment, by Sigyn's return.

"Sorry, I needed to play nurse. Sam, I'd like you to meet someone very special." And then she stepped aside, to reveal a bulky electric wheelchair, in which sat a boy who looked about fourteen years old, with skin like snow and copper coloured hair. He had a long plastic tube wrapped around his face, which went into his nose. An IV drip in his hand. And a smile. A smile that shone like the sun. His mother's smile.

"Sam, this is Narfi."

"Hey, Sam." Narfi smiled again, although speaking seemed to be causing him considerable pain. "It's, nice to meet, someone who can, put up with Uncle Gabriel… were you born crazy, or was it a personal, crisis?"

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Narfi turned his bottle green eyes on his 'uncle' Gabriel.

"Did you, bring Hella, this time?"

"Sorry kiddo, she's still a little too angry at me to be nice."

"Shame." Narfi shrugged. "Ma, pass me a b… b-b…" here he descended into a coughing fit, and was quickly tended to by his mother, bringing him a brownie and a glass of water. He smiled at her thankfully between coughs. Sam looked at Gabriel.

"So this is it? This is what you've been hiding from me?"

"Well… not 'hiding', exactly…"

"Honey, if you're about to ask him why he didn't tell you," Sigyn said, straightening up and patting Sam on the shoulder, "Then you clearly don't know him all that well."

(-*-)

"Dean." Castiel addressed his own reflection, for the hundredth time. He'd tried so many different combinations of words, and so far he only liked the first one. "I have something I need to tell you… Something I'd like to tell you… Need. Need to tell you… Dean. I have something I need to tell you."

"Yeah?"

Castiel whipped around, to find Dean leaning against the bathroom doorway, grinning.

"Did I just make you jump?"

"I… no."

"Yeah I did. You jumped."

"Maybe… a little."

"I made you jump. There. Now you know how I felt, all those times you came flying in."

Castiel smiled uneasily, his eyes falling to the floor.

"So?"

"So?"

"You have something you 'need to tell me'?"

"I, uh, yes… it is… um," Cas couldn't stop staring at the floor. His fingers flexed nervously as he blustered under Dean's scrutinising gaze. "I… my powers… aren't as gone as we had thought."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Say again?"

"I have… my empathy has developed into something nearer to my old capabilities. Dream walking, sensing souls… everything except for actual flight, and I'm functioning at a much lower level, but…"

"For how long?"

"For… a week or so, nothing more."

Dean nodded, staring at Cas.

"Does anyone else know?"

"I haven't told…"

"But does anyone else know?"

Castiel hovered for a moment, unsure why he was so afraid of Dean's reaction.

"Hel. And… I think Gabriel suspects."

Dean nodded again, his face carefully blank. For a while, they stood like that, neither of them talking. Then Dean turned and left the bathroom, without saying a word


	14. Chapter 14

Castiel tried to find Dean. To follow him, explain. But his powers, in some fit of poetic justice, weren't up to the challenge. Hella watched him cautiously as he sat, almost bent double on the couch.

"Uncle Cas?"

"Please…" he rasped, "Leave."

"Are you ok?"

"I will be."

He said nothing more, but closed his eyes and began to mumble incoherently. Hella stood on edge, not wanting to leave him, but having no idea how to help. He turned his eyes skyward.

(-*-)

Before they left Sigyn's house, Sam bagged up some brownies for the road, and Gabriel painted discreet runes around every doorway and window.

"Don't be a stranger," Sigyn smiled, kissing Sam on the cheek. She reminded him of Ellen, and brought on a spark of nostalgia that sank right through Sam's guts.

"Come ba… back, soon, and bring, Hel." Narfi smiled.

"Can I just… I just want to ask one last question."

Sigyn smiled again and nodded her consent. Sam proceeded carefully.

"If you're not gods, what are you? How are you still alive?"

"Holy powers," Narfi gasped, "Angel blood, and time-travelled, medical equipment."

"But more of that later," Gabriel announced, slapping Sam's backside with a paint covered hand. "We've gotta get moving." He kissed Sigyn and Narfi's cheeks, and took Sam's hand in his. "Ready?"

Sam nodded, and in the next moment they were gone.

As they touched down in the motel room with a rustle of wings, Sam gripped Gabriel's hand tight, feeling for once like everything just might work ou-

The typhoon that hit Sam and Gabriel threw them against a wall, coupled by a barrage of splinters and broken glass, and sending Sigyn's brownies splatting across the small TV set, seconds before the glass cracked and shattered. The screeching, howling wind made Sam feel like his brain was being dragged out through his ears, and through the storm of debris he could see Hella crouched on the floor with her arms over her head.

And, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Hella didn't so much roll over as fall, dark red stains blossoming across her sleeves and her jeans. A shard of stone stuck out of the torn fabric.

Everything seemed to pass in a haze, Gabriel scrambling to reach her, clutching her close to him, threads of golden light passing between them as Gabriel frantically tried to heal her… The next thing Sam knew, Hella was laid out on the righted but not repaired couch, her head resting on Gabriel's lap as he continued to massage soothing magic into her arms. Dean leant against the wall in front of them, staring at the floor.

"So he's just gone? That's it? So much for…"

"Oh, come off it, Dean." Hella croaked, glaring at him. "You know exactly where and why he went. He tells you he's getting his powers back, you pretty much treat him like he's punched you in the balls?"

"You think he's gone to Jehoel?" Sam felt weak.

"Of course he has, he's the poster boy for Jewish guilt." Hella coughed, pushed herself upright and took a long, steady breath. "But thankfully, I have the ability to multitask. Meaning I can have just as strong a fit of emotional turmoil as you guys, but I can also get some research done. Bathe your angel sword in the blood of a chimera, and it should kill Jehoel."

"Where the crap do we get a chimera?"

"A chimera is any hybrid creature." Hella waved her torn and bloody sleeve at Gabriel, and stood, looking pained. "You all need to go. Save Cas, kill that Mega angel dickbag, and for Gods sake Dean just tell him how you feel. I'm going to fly back to Bobby's and rest up in the safe room."

She didn't look like she could fly. She looked like she was about to pass out. But she went, before anyone could stop her, leaving the small, strange family to get to it.

(-*-)

The Nevada desert was the only place big enough for them. Jehoel stood in front of the bloodied and beaten Castiel, and held a hand to his face.

"Child. You know your actions were wrong."

"I thought…"

The hand resting on his cheek turned quickly into a slap.

"In itself, a sin. Angels are given duties and must follow them. Not even Metatron in its' true, full form may question the word of God. And here, you, a mere fledgeling, think you have the authority to act in such…"

"God has not spoken in centuries. He may as well be…"

Another slap.

"You think his silence isn't word enough for you? Who made you reincarnate? Who stopped you and those humans from being torn apart, time after time?" She leant in close. "Who granted you the power to recover so quickly from having your grace ripped from your body?!"

She hit him again, knocking him to the ground. The hot sand was as unyielding as if it had been concrete, and Castiel's weakness was obvious.

"You gave yourself up, and your penitence is… some point in your favour. To commemorate it, I shall make an oath. Once you are dead, I shall slay no other blasphemers. Your blood shall be sacrifice enough, in the eyes of God."

Castiel tried to stand, to speak, but he did not have the strength. Jehoel knelt over him, smoothing the hair from his brow and raising her stone blade high.

"It is a shame, that such a promising soldier should meet his end like this. Which garrison were you from?"

"Yours," he croaked, with a bubbling in the back of his throat that could have been spit or blood. Jehoel nodded.

"Then you are my prodigal son. And you cannot return to the flock, for your crimes are too great. Yet, you may still redeem yourself, in penitence." Her blade cut an arc through the air as it plunged towards Casiel's heart. He had strength enough to close his eyes, but as he did, he didn't feel the piercing, burning, tearing sensation that had ripped his self to shreds the other times he had been graced by death. There was a second's pause, and a heavy weight fell onto his chest. He opened his eyes, as much as he could, anyway, and took in the sight of Jehoel's burned out vessel slumped across him. A blade that glowed silver but seemed to move like mercury , that warped and spiked and changed as it settled itself into her grace, protruded from her back.

The blade reeked of blood, but more than that. A subtler perfume that a human sense couldn't pick up on. The blood was cloying in its odours: hope, guilt, fear, courage, shame, and an overwhelming scent of love. The smell said it was born in snow and raised as if dead, cherished and graced with a warm, golden light and, most of all, it bore a smell so thick Castiel could practically taste it. It was the sense of family, trust and… and… Castiel's vision finally gave out on him, and the world was black again. His consciousness stayed with him long enough to feel the weight lifted from his chest, and to feel himself lifted, carried, by strong hands. And he passed out.


	15. Chapter 15

Castiel blinked blearily, feeling his brain shrink away from the sudden appearance of bright light. He took in a shaky breath, and noticed that he wasn't dead, which was surprising. A collection of blurry shapes loomed into his field of vision, and slowly resolved themselves into Dean's face.

"Dean?" Castiel managed. Dean smiled, clearly relieved to see that Cas wasn't some sort of holy vegetable.

"You ok?"

"Yes… aching, all over, but, considering what Jehoel could have done to me, yes, I'm alright."

"Good," Dean nodded, before pulling back his arm and punching Castiel square in the nose. The result was a strong pain in Dean's hand, and tears in Castiel's eyes as he felt a mildly uncomfortable stinging sensation.

"Ow," he said, although Dean had the feeling it may have been out of pity.

"Yeah, well you deserved it," Dean growled, before stalking over to the window. Castiel rubbed his nose gingerly, sitting up. For the first time, he realised he was in a motel room with blue and white Stetson wallpaper, twin beds by the window and a mangy looking couch, which he was currently reclining on, with a blue and white blanket over his legs. His coat was thrown over one of the beds.

"Dean, will there ever be a point in time when you aren't angry at me for doing something to make your life easier?"

"How would getting yourself killed make my life easier, Cas? How?"

"Given your reaction when I said…"

"Oh, screw my reaction, Cas." Dean was still flexing his hand awkwardly, flinching at the pain in his knuckles, but had force enough to turn an angry, exasperated glare on Cas. "You of all people should know not to give a crap about how I react to things. So you've got your powers back, that's your thing, it's not even my business!"

"Is your hand hurt?"

"Yes it's fricken' hurt, your face is made of angel-steel."

"Let me see it."

Reluctantly, Dean sat at the end of the couch, by Castiel's feet, and let his hand be examined. Castiel pressed his fingers into the grooves between Dean's knuckles, their hands awkwardly interlocked. They sat in silence for a moment as a warm, golden glow slowly crept from Castiel's hand.

"I'm always going to care about your thoughts and feelings, Dean."

"Cas, we're sat on a couch holding hands. Can we not talk about feelings too?"

"I was just…"

"I'm not freaking Sam, ok?"

"I can' imagine ever needing to have this conversation with Sam."

"Cas… Just…" Dean stared resolutely out of the window, his brow set in determination. "Look, can you not talk for a little bit? Just let me say what I want to say?"

Castiel nodded consent, and Dean's lips tightened as he considered his next words.

"When you… when the whole thing went down, before, and you went… rogue… I beat the shit out of myself on a daily basis, because I couldn't see a way where that wasn't my fault. But then Gabriel brought you back, and I thought maybe… maybe the whole thing was just some sort of angel mid-life crisis that I couldn't have understood or stopped or had anything to do with. And maybe I thought that on purpose, just so I wouldn't be guilty. And… And then I got used to having you around, just another guy on the team. So when you say "Hey, I'm an angel again after all"… I mean, I don't want things to go back to how they were."

Castiel drew his hand back as if scalded.

"I would never go down that path again."

"No, I don't mean…" Dean's head whipped round, eyes wide at the hurt tone of Castiel's voice. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, struggling with his words again. "Ok. So, maybe I liked having you around. I liked you being human, us being on the same level for once. No one owed a debt to anyone else, no one was the saviour or the… the save-ee. We were just guys on the team. But then…"

"You remembered everything I'd done." Castiel stated, staring at his own feet. "I kept it a secret from you for that reason. I didn't want to… to push you away again."

"Wait, what?" Dean laughed. "You were worried about me backing off? Cas… It freaked me out because I didn't want you going back… back to heaven."

Castiel blinked, taking too long to understand what those words actually meant.

"Dean, what… what are you saying?"

"Just, look, let's start over. Forget about who did what. I'm not going anywhere, are you?"

"Well, I imagine the motel would ask us to leave after a certain amount of time…"

"Cas. Are you a part of this team or not?"

"Yes. If you'd still want me here."

Cas and dean smiled at each other, feeling oddly sheepish. The door rattled loudly, shocking each of them out of their staring contest.

Gabriel stuck his head around the door. "Have you guys kissed yet or what?"

Dean glared at Gabriel with absolutely no trace of the happiness that had been in his eyes five seconds ago. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"For crying out loud, how much of a hint do you two need? Ok, you know what?"

He clicked his fingers, and Dean suddenly found himself with arms around Castiel's neck, lips pressed to the angel's. Gabriel disappeared less than a millisecond later, leaving them to figure out the rest. Down the hall, he appeared in his and Sam's room, to find Sam with his serious research face on, looking through pages of something online.

"They're talking," Gabriel smiled, earning a momentary suspicious glance from Sam. "What are you looking at?"

"Just some stuff… you know, there's a surgeon in Germany who specialises in organ trauma."

"Riiight…" Gabriel grinned. "Am I sensing kind deeds from caring uncle Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, "it doesn't seem fair that Narfi should have to spend his life in that chair, just because of some Viking gods who felt intimidated."

"Well, we can look into that in the morning." Gabriel reached over and closed Sam's laptop, to a momentary protest, before Sam caught the glint in Gabriel's eye. "Hella's safe at Bobby's, Dean and Cas are no doubt busy in their own special way… I think we should enjoy this moment to ourselves, don't you?"

Sam would have responded, but he suddenly found himself naked and horizontal, with Gabriel pressing him down against the bed. Sam smiled and gave in to his boyfriend's wishes. Sometimes, he just had to presume everything would be alright.

(-*-)

They had buried the ashen remains of Jehoel in the Nevada desert, and left her there. Castiel had been carried to a nearby motel and they made up some story about a bachelor party gone awry. After a few days of recuperating, they made their way back to Bobby's, with zero journey time as Gabriel zapped the lot of them and the Impala straight there.

Between Gabriel taking Hella and Sam to visit Sigyn and Narfi, and Bobby resolutely stating he did not want to know about whatever happened, especially if it involved anything other than the words "hunt", "shoot", "curse" or "monster", Dean and Cas were mostly left to their own devices. They were still sheepish and secretive about actually demonstrating any display of affection, but Sam did spot the odd kiss or brush of fingertips, and quietly resolved not to tease the shit out of Dean until he was more comfortable with whatever the hell he was doing.

Gabriel, for what it was worth, was never going to not be worried when Hella went out on her own, but she seemed to take a shine to the Alaska weather, and knew a ridiculous amount of healing and recovery rituals, which made sense when she pointed out she had been dominion keeper of the realm of the sick and elderly. And her spending time with Narfi was unanimously agreed upon as preferable to her spending time with high school punks from Sioux Falls.

Sam figured they'd probably get hunting again soon. Preferably before they'd pissed Bobby off so much he took up shooting at Angels. But for now, they were ok to just get their shit together, sit back, and adjust into their odd little family situation. It wasn't much, and it sure as hell wasn't normal, but Sam was really glad they h ad it.


End file.
